


Daughter of Three Goddesses

by HuntressOfTheSea



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan
Genre: Archery, Gen, Owls, Prophecy, Running Away, feral child, forest
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-30
Updated: 2021-02-27
Packaged: 2021-03-11 02:07:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 63,625
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28437360
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HuntressOfTheSea/pseuds/HuntressOfTheSea
Summary: AU where HoO doesn't exist. Two years after the Titan War and the world has been at peace. When an extraction team is sent out, they get more then they bargain for. Oaths have been broken. Because the new girl is strange, odd - and deadly dangerous.Repost of my fic from fanfiction.net.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 4





	1. Running Away

Arthemia: Running Away

I awoke at the stroke of midnight. Rising from my bed fully dressed, I crept downstairs. Running to the front hall closets I grabbed a knapsack, and my side school bag. I snuck back into my second room and sat down at the desk. Opening my side bag I slipped my laptop, IPod, and power cords inside. I then slid into my bedroom.

I sighed at my room, its simplicity, its shelves filled with row upon row of books. My hunting bow and quiver full of arrows hung on the wall above my headboard. The forest theme of the walls and ceiling, even my bedspread. The small wood fireplace at the far corner. Perfect, simply perfect in every way.

I walked over to my selves and stopped in front of the one that held my favourite books. The one that held all the Percy Jackson and the Olympian books. In a way I wish I hadn't read them. You know the warning in The Lightning Thief? Sadly, I didn't listen, and now my life was more strange than normal. The animals in the forest near my home were wilder now. And I had grown more distant from my father.

Pulling open my side bag, I slipped all five books inside. I snapped my bag shut and secured it. Turning around I stepped up on my bed. I carefully took my bow and quiver down and slung them over my back. Climbing carefully back down, I took one last look around my room. I walked back over to my bookshelf and with a black Sharpe, wrote the names of the books I had removed in their corresponding places.

Before leaving my room, I stuffed extra pillows into my bed to make it look like I was sleeping. That would delay my father for longer. I exited, closing the door quietly behind me. I tip-toed down the hall, pausing before the door to my father's room. Peering in, I saw him fast asleep. The moonlight illuminating him. His light brown hair, tan skin, his warm brown eyes closed that made it look like he was either smiling or angry. So much unlike me.

I had deep auburn hair that fell down to my elbows; with a light brown streak down the left of my face and a honey-blond one down the right side. My eyes were two different colours. My right one switched with my moods between stormy grey and cold silver – like the winter moon. The other was a burning yellow, like a low fire. I was a strange ten-year-old girl. I had never been to a school. I had lived my whole life in a mansion on a country property that was surrounded by miles of forest. I was nothing like my father.

A single tear trickled down my face as I turned away from him. I fled silently down the hall and dashed down the stairs. I passed briefly in the kitchen to stuff my knapsack with food. All non-perishable things of course. I then went to the side door of the house. I pulled one my old worn running shoes, and added a second larger pair I had gotten from the Salvation Army into the knapsack.

Opening the door, I stepped in the humid summer night air of June. Sprinting across the wild lawn I headed straight towards the forest. Returning to nature, just what I've always wanted. At the edge of the woods, I paused to look back at what now was my former home. Tall, marble, fancy, so many words to describe that house.

I slipped into the forest, the shadows folding around me. I walked in deeper and deeper. This was where I felt most at home. Here I was, ten years old, running away to live in the wild. My father always told me I was smart for my age, that I was braver and more intelligent than most. Now I had finally done what I had always wished for. Now I was going to live my life in solitude, now my life was totally in my control. I vanished further into the endless woods.


	2. Missing Demigod

Percy: Missing Demigod

We cruised along an old gravel road in Paul's still dented Prius. My beautiful girlfriend, Annabeth Chase, Daughter of Athena, sat in the seat next to me. My best friend, Grover Underwood sat behind me. It felt like old times, the good old time, like the summer that followed right after the Titan War.

About two years ago, the second Titan war had happened. And me, the Saviour of Olympus, the Son of Poseidon, had defeat Kronos, the Titan Lord. That was also the summer camp got a new Oracle, one that wasn't a mummy. My friend, Rachel Elizabeth Dare, took on that role. And you can't forget the best part too, that was the summer me and Annabeth became my girlfriend.

So here we were, two years later, and things hadn't changed a bit. Everything was still the same as it was. Sure, there was that great prophecy, but it probably wouldn't even happen in my lifetime.

Currently, all three of us were out here as an Extraction Team. Chiron had received a message that there was a demigod out somewhere that needed to be found. He wasn't quite sure of the location, just somewhere in Illinois. Something about a demigod living in tune with nature. So, of course, us three had been chosen for this. We had the Lord of the Wild, a Daughter of Athena, and me searching.

I was driving slowly along a road that spanned the distance of many, farms. We had the windows rolled down so Grover could sniff out this demigod. It was extremely tire-some. We passed dozens of farms in the several hours that I drove. Every time we saw someone under the age of thirteen we would ask Grover if it was them. And every time he would say no.

After probably five hours of driving (by this time I was ready to start banging my head on the wheel) we reached a huge forest. Its trees were as big as the ones at camp. It was extremely thick, you could barely see into it. We had been going by it for about half an hour and we still didn't see an end to it. Suddenly Grover started to get agitated. I glanced back at him in the rear view mirror fearfully. Last time he started acting like that was when he got close to Pan.

After a few more minutes he suddenly burst out, "Percy! Turn down that driveway up ahead!" It took me a moment to see what he was seeing. A hidden gravel driveway. Well, if Grover thought heading down this would help, then that's where we'd go.

We drove along the driveway for a very long time. Well, a long time for a driveway. Soon I pulled into a large turn around and I pulled to a stop. All three of us got out of Paul's car and stretched our cramped muscles. The driveway was strangely deserted. It was a little walk to the house, which was hidden in trees. We took a beaten path through the trees and when the house came into view we stopped dead.

Annabeth gasped, "Oh . . ."

"My . . ."

"Gods . . ." I finished. The house was absolutely amazing. It was made all of white marble. Columns covered the front of the five story building. It was a ginormous mansion. It looked as amazing as one of the temples on Olympus. Annabeth could have hardly done better. This place clearly was the property of a rich family. It was utterly breath-taking.

But . . . I felt something was wrong. The yard was overrun, wild. The mansion had a slightly weathered look. It seemed eerily quiet and the place looked like it might be deserted. If I lived here, I would come out and see why three teenagers randomly appeared. But, there was nothing.

We walked up to the front door, and at that moment I was suddenly grateful for our disguises. See, we had decided to publish my adventures to the world. Partly to encourage the gods, partly because when a half-blood read them, they often do realize that their a lot like the book 'characters'. It makes it so much easier to find half-bloods now. Only problem, we had all become pretty famous.

So we were all wearing disguises. I had on a brown wig and blue contacts. Annabeth wore brown contacts and had a black wig on. Grover had put on a blond wig (which helped cover his horns) and green contacts. Basically, nobody would recognize us as who we really were.

So anyway, we walked up to the door and knocked the knocker. We waited a few agonizing minutes before trying again, with the same result. Instead of trying a third time, we tired the doorknob. Strangely, it was unlocked. We stepped into the huge marble foyer. It was amazing. I'm serious, this whole place was impressing me, and it looked as good as if Annabeth or Athena designed it.

"Guys, I feel like we're being watched," Annabeth muttered. I wrapped my arm around her waist pulling her into me.

"Same here," I told her. Because unfortunately it was true, it did feel like we were being watched.

"I smell a demigod," Grover said suddenly, sniffing loudly at the air. "It's very faint. I can hardly make it out. Should we check it out?" He turned to me and I gave a nod.

"We should, it might lead us to where they went," I said. Grover started forward, pausing frequently to sniff. Me and Annabeth followed him slowly. He led us up the grand staircase and we began our way through twisting corridors. He stopped and we had to back track several times. Soon we found ourselves in front of what looked like a bedroom door.

"It's the strongest in there, but it's still faint," Grover informed us.

We stood there for a minute, then pushed the door open and walked inside. It was a simple room. One desk covered in textbooks and pencils, markers, pens, and other school supplies. The other was bare, but by the way it was set-up, it looked like it was a computer desk. It was painted and olive green, but that wasn't the bad part.

The entire left side was _covered_ in drawings. All of them were of people, in a half realistic half anime style. They were actually really good. I mean, not as good as Rachel could have done, but still good compared to most people. Then, with a chill, I realized what they were drawings of.

They were drawings of us.

Drawings of all the half-bloods at camp. Drawings that, although not quite accurate, still recognizable as the demigods we mentioned in our books. There was me, Annabeth, Grover, Chiron, Argus, the Stoll Brothers, Clarisse, Lee Fletcher, Michel Yew, Silena Beauregard, Beckendorf, Chris Rodriguez, Quintus, Juniper, Zoë, Bianca, Nico, Thalia, Tyson, Luke, Mrs. O'Leary, Blackjack, and so many others, even the monsters. Drawings of the gods and Titans in different poses as I had described them at the time. They covered the whole wall, some half hidden, others in plain view. They were a little faded, but everything about them was still incredible.

Breathlessly we walked slowly up to the wall. Lifting some drawings to get to others, finding new ones we hadn't seen. We searched through them for minutes, maybe longer. I couldn't tell, it was so amazing, a bit creepy as well, but over all amazing.

" _Di Immortals,"_ Annabeth murmured staring at a drawing. I walked over and noticed her face was flushed bright red. I glanced over her shoulder at the drawing and I felt myself turn bright red as well. It was drawing from a scene in the end of the last book we had decided to publish. It was the underwater scene that everyone had _begged_ for us to tell. The one where we kissed underwater. It was a near perfect drawing of what it had actually looked like. But it was horribly embarrassing to see it on paper. Annabeth quickly dropped some other pictures over top and turned away, me obediently doing the same.

"Hey, G-man, you okay?" I asked Grover, who was sniffing at the wall on the other side of the room.

"I have two things, one, this demigod is an obsessive fan, two, the scent gets a little stronger through here. I think there might be a door, help me look," he said. I was extremely glad of the disguises now, obsessive fans made camp not quite as fun. We went over and began feeling around the wall. Annabeth quickly found a small knob the same colour as the wall. She turned it and a door swung inwards to the other room.

Following my girlfriend in, we entered what was clearly a girl's bedroom. A _weird_ girl's bedroom. The walls and ceiling were painted to make it look like you were in a forest, same as the bedspread. The wall at the base of the bed was covered in ceiling-to-floor bookshelves, all nearly full. In the centre there was none because instead a huge wood fireplace was set in the wall. You could tell it was a girl's because it was neat (I have yet to meet a guy who is actually neat) and a shredded dress was on the floor in front of the closet.

All three of us wandered around the room. Searching for clues that might lead us this half-blood's whereabouts. We were looking for over half an hour. Annabeth was combing through the bookshelves while me and Grover were searching through everything else (not the clothes though, that would really help). Suddenly Annabeth let out a gasp.

"Percy . . . you might want to check this out," she said. She had that tone of voice that meant, _'get over here right now or you're going to get yelled at or worse'._ I quickly scampered over and saw what she was looking at.

It was an empty spot in the shelves. Writing was done in a black marker in the rough space of one book. Tilting my head, I read the words silently. They were book titles, they read: _Percy Jackson & the Olympians The Lightning Thief; Percy Jackson & the Olympians The Sea of Monsters; Percy Jackson & the Olympians The Titan's Curse; Percy Jackson & the Olympians The Battle of the Labyrinth; Percy Jackson & the Olympians The Last Olympian. _They were the titles of camps books.

With a shiver, I read something else that was written on the shelf. Something that was written in ancient Greek. "She knew," I breathed. Reading the message over and over again. What did it say? It read: _you're too late._


	3. Intruders

Arthemia: Intruder's

When I woke up this morning, I swear I was going to be sick. I had had a dream filled night, mostly due to what the day was. It was the two year anniversary of the day I had run away. Exactly two years ago I had left my home, leaving in the middle of the night. Of course my first brilliant plan changed soon after into another.

When I ran away, I thought my father would look for me. But what did he do? He just packed up his clothes and _left._ That's right he just left and never returned. He abandoned the house and everything in it, he abandoned me.

In the case of that (I thought of everything ahead of time) happening I had planned to go and live my life on my own. I was going to sell my laptop and IPod for money, but I soon found that going to a pawn shop wasn't what I was meant to do. Instead, I fell in love with the forest, the shadows and mystery, the wild abundance of the plants and animals.

I then chose to live in the forest. I had my bow, I could hunt to eat and clothe myself. Soon, I found the centre of the forest. This massive tree the size of up to ten men with their arms spread around. It was . . . humongous. I swear, it must be a thousand years old. That became my home. I had also taken some rope when I left, so that was how I managed. That tree became my home. And it still was, for the past two years.

That morning waking up, I sensed something was wrong. I had dealt with plenty of people coming in, wanting to develop, trying to ransack the house. But I scared them all away. A simple arrow through the air and a menacing growl sent them running. After all, the local people have always deemed this forest cursed.

So sensing something was wrong, I figured someone was merely coming to close. I knew everything about this forest; I could transverse it quickly and quietly with ease. After a quick meal of some forest plants that I had harvested I set out with my bow and quiver. But I didn't go out alone.

I was just leaving when Aria flew in. Aria is a two and a half year old barn owl. I had found her on the ground not long after running away. I guess she had fallen out of a tree while branching, so I decided to heal her back to health. Ever since then, she hasn't left my side. I can almost understand her hoots too, it's a little strange I know, but I just could. It was simple, knowing what she meant by the pitch, speed, volume.

I ran silently though the forest, Aria gliding just as silently beside me. It was midday when there was movement outside the forest on the road. I let it pass through on its own, assuming it would just go by the forest. Instead it turned the driveway and went to the house. I cursed under my breath. Trespassers. They would pay for entering this land!

I climb a tree at the edge of the property line. With a hoot, I sent Aria to the other side to keep a look out. I narrowed my eyes as I saw three figures stand in front of the house on the porch. After a few minutes they entered. I waited for a very long time. Hours I believe, I wasn't staying still though. I moved around, climbing, running, anything to keep my body moving.

After a very long time, they exited. Aria came soaring back to me and perched on my shoulder. She cooed softly in my ear and I cursed. See, I had taken Aria in there once. And now, judging by her sound, they had been in my rooms. They would pay even more, I swear, they will rue the day they set foot here!

Slowly, they all moved towards the woods. As they approached, I saw it was two boys and a girl. The girl had black hair, one boy had brown and the other had blond. The boy with the blond hair walked funny, well compared to the other two he did. He was also leading, and he appeared to be sniffing.

They came closer, pausing just before the tree I was perched in. He took a deep sniff; I narrowed my eyes even more, so now they were barely slits.

"Hey guys, I know this going to sound weird, but it's strongest in the tree," the blond boy said. My face hardened, and I was extremely glad my clothing blended in with the trees. My knee-long hair didn't though. Yes knee-long, it does that after two years of not cutting it.

"I think your nose needs its eyes checked," the brown hair boy said. "I don't see anything. It's just a tree."

"But I'm telling you, this whole forest has it, and it's strongest in this tree!" he protested. "Can't one of you just climb it and check?" The girl rolled her eyes and gave an irritated sigh.

"We are not climbing it, it huge and way too hard, even I would have a hard time getting a good grip," the girl told him. I nearly snorted, but managed to catch myself in time. It was not hard to climb a tree! Even if the tree was three people wrapped around. Actually, those weren't even challenging.

"If it's coming from the woods, why not just head in there?" the brown haired boy asked. The blond gave a shrug.

"Okay, if that's what you guys want," he said. The others nodded and that boy began entering the forest beneath me first, sniffing all the way. The other boy and girl followed, ugh, boys. Such idiots.

They continued walking deeper and deeper into the forest. Slowly, they began to make headway for The Tree. By now a scowl was permanently plastered to my face, and my eyes were hard slits. I followed them through the trees, stepping quietly from limb to limb. The made several twists and turns, but the whole time their general direction was The Tree. My home.

After following them for several minutes, they paused in a smallish clearing. Aria, who had been perched on my shoulder the whole time, quickly hopped to a branch next to me. Silently, I took my bow of my shoulder and made ready to grab an arrow.

"I swear I smell something following us!" the blond boy said suddenly. The girl scanned the surrounding trees, her eyes sweeping right over me.

"There's nothing, I repeat, nothing. Stop imagining things," she informed him. He gave a shrug and glanced fearfully in my direction.

I silently slid and arrow from my quiver and knocked it on the bow string. Lifting my bow, I pulled back smoothly. My hand rested lightly against my check and I took aim. Once sighted, I gave a small nod. Beside me, Aria swooped into flight. Pulling a low but fast arc over the trespassers. They looked startled and stared after Aria. I loosened the arrow and it flew forward through the interlocking branches. It whizzed not even an inch from the blond boy's ear and embedded itself in the ground beside the brown haired boy.

Their heads snapped in towards the tree, but I was long gone. Half way around the clearing, sprinting through the trees. The surrounding trees rustled slightly as I moved. They kept turning around in confusion. A second later I was on the other side of them, standing in the trees. I schooled and hardened my expression as I looked down on them.

Pulling another arrow from my quiver, I knocked it on the bow string. Tensing my legs, I let out a low menacing hiss. I dropped to the ground in a flash and kept ready in case I need to fire the arrow. They all stared at me as if I had come from space; scanning me up and down critically. Bearing my teeth I hissed, "What are you doing here?" No one, I repeat, _no one_ enters this forest without paying the price.


	4. Wild Girl

Percy: Wild Girl

As soon as I had read the Greek message on the bookshelf, I knew we were in for a wagon-load of trouble. This girl had known who she was, that she was a half-blood. For whatever reason, she had disappeared and left us with barely a single clue. Just a message that said we were too late. I wasn't sure whether to start cursing or run outside and start looking everywhere.

As soon as we found the writing, we knew it was hopeless to keep searching the house. Following Grover's nose we wound our way out of the house and into the overrun yard. Hours had passed; the sun had gotten much lower than from when we had gone in. After an extremely quick discussion, we agreed to go with Grover's idea, which is follow his nose through the woods that apparently had the demigod's scent rolling off it.

We started out for the woods, and as we did, something flew over head. Annabeth said it was an owl, but I couldn't tell. I didn't even know how she could tell. Once we got to the edge of the woods Grover stopped and began to sniff deeply. He started insisting that he smelt the half-blood in a tree. But he also said the entire woods smelt of it, so we ignored him. Besides, we didn't really want to try climbing the tree he was pointing too.

So we all headed in to the woods. Grover led us in a twisting path. After a while he stopped in a tiny clearing and sniffed hard, looking disturbed. I frowned and glanced nervously around, his expression made me uneasy.

"I swear I smell something following us!" Grover exclaimed. Annabeth raised her eyebrows and did a quick sweep of the surrounding trees. Finding nothing she turned back to us.

"There's nothing, I repeat, nothing. Stop imagining things," Annabeth informed us. I shrugged, and Grover glanced fearfully at the trees behind us. A moment later, a bird swooped closely over head. I instinctively ducked, the straightened up and stared after the bird in confusion. Barely a second passed and Grover let out a yelped, an arrow suddenly was embedded in the ground beside my foot. I whirled around, but saw nothing.

The trees began to rustle, but I figured it was just a gust of wind. I followed it with my eyes. It stopped when it was in front of us. Suddenly, a low hiss sounded, vibrating through the air. Next thing I knew, a young girl dropped to the ground in front of us. A wooden bow in her hands, arrow knocked on string, quiver on back.

I looked at her up and down, trying to take in what I saw. For a second I thought she was Artemis, but quickly dismissed that idea. She was about the age of twelve, maybe a little younger. Her features were still forming, so I couldn't tell. Her hair was extremely long; it fell down to her knees. It was a deep auburn colour with a streak of warm brown the left side of her face (left when you faced her) and a honey blond streak down the other side; so they framed her face. Her hair started out straight, the gradually grew wavy, then turned into princess curls. Each different style was a third of her hair. But what was most startling was her eyes. The eye on the left (when you were facing her) was a cold silver, like Artemis's, but it seemed to shift, and for a second it was cold silver then it was stormy grey. The other was burning yellow, much like Hestia's only not actual flame. Then there were her clothes.

Her clothes were tattered, like she had grown through them. If they had been whole, it would have been brown capri's and a black T-shirt. Instead, they were all patched with various animal furs, as well as something that looked like canvas. She had a pair of worn running shoes on. Everything about her – hair, clothes, face – was covered and streaked with dirt, leaves and sweat. Her skin was slightly sunburnt and muscles were faintly visible on her arms and legs.

I took this all in, in a second. Before I could say anything she hissed, "What are you doing here?" her voice would have sounded like bells, but the harsh tone ruined it. For a second I gaped at her, from her appearance I wouldn't like her to have such a nice voice. But I quickly covered my wits.

"We're, oh, you know, just out here, enjoying nature," I told her as cheerfully as I could. She slowly began to glare at me, and her look is as bad as Athena's.

"Don't lie," She said in an even but harsh tone. "You went into the house. Why? Tell me, why are you here? If you're here as a search party, leave. If you're here as developer, leave. Get out." I swallowed nervously and took a small step back. Her eyes grew a slightly amused look, but I could have imagined it.

"We're not here to develop anything, and we're not a search party," Annabeth said as calmly as she could manage. The girl gave a heartless laugh, one that chilled my bones.

"Really?" she said, voice crawling like a snake. "Then why did you go into the house? Why are you in this forest? This is dangerous land; you should leave while you can." Suddenly Grover gave sound half way between a gasp and a choke.

"It's her," he managed. "She's who we're looking for." I gulped and glanced back at Grover.

"You sure?" I asked, hating how much my voice was shaking. He gave a nervous nod and skidded back on his feet, err, hooves.

"It's her," he repeated. I looked back to the girl, her eyes had grown crueler and she bared her teeth, hissing at us. This girl is one hundred percent crazy.

"Why are you looking for me?" she said quietly. "What do you want with me? I'm not going anywhere." She looked almost scared; the ADHD part of me wondered how long she'd been out here and why. Annabeth's calm measured voice broke me out of my thoughts.

"Please, don't get so worked up. We're here to take you somewhere safe. Just come with us, it'll be okay," Annabeth said reassuringly. "Please just trust us." The girl began to growl.

"I. Am. Not. Going. Anywhere," she said in a scary voice. Before we had time to react, she lifted her bow and drew back with ease. In a second she had taken aim at Annabeth and she released. It whizzed through the air, and the next thing I did was so impulsive and stupid it probably screwed up the whole mission.

The second she released I jumped in front of Annabeth, blocking her from the arrow's path. The arrow flew fast and hit my chest, instead of shattering; it just bounced off my invincible chest and fell to the ground. The tip glinted strangely in the grass and dirt. Annabeth's hand gripped my shoulder and I could just imagine her face. Probably something that said _I-cannot-believe-this-is-happening._ I looked at the girl and her jaw was dropped in shock. Slowly she lowered her arm, her eyes wide and disbelieving.

Unfortunately her shock only lasted for a second. Her eyes returned to that hard cold look, and she swept them over me analyzing everything. She saw something and her eyes narrowed. Darting forward like quicksilver, she ran at me. She was a lot shorter than me, so suddenly she jumped and made a grab for the top of my head; hair whiplashing me in the face. It happened so fast I couldn't even react. Next thing I knew, she was behind us on the other side of the clearing, my wig in her hand. She looked at it for a second then looked up at me scowling. My black hair fell back into place, partly covering my eyes; yeah this was going to end badly.

"It can't be," I heard her murmur. Even though her mouth didn't appear to move and her expression stayed the same. But I knew she spoke because of the bell-like sound. I looked at Annabeth and Grover, they were thinking the same thing as me: This just blew up.

I sighed and rubbed my head (wearing a wig for hours is very itchy and uncomfortable). Taking a deep breath I said, "Well, looks like the jig is up guys. Time to take them off." The girl looked at us strangely as we went about the business of taking off the wigs and contacts. Within a couple minutes we were back to our usual selves. Grover's horn poked slightly over his curly hair the he had intentionally pulled up – so the girl wouldn't get even more freaked out.

"Okay, we can explain this," Annabeth started; but the girl cut her off by taking another arrow from her quiver and knocking it.

"I don't care," she said fiercely. "I don't care if you're supposed to be great heroes, you shouldn't be here. I've been doing fine on my own, just leave. I don't want your help." Now I was certain, this girl had once lived in the mansion. She recognized who we were, which would make sense if she had done all the drawings.

"Look," Grover said, with all the power he could muster. He still wasn't the best at acting as an authority figure. "We get seeing us is a little shocking, but you're a demigod. You need to come with us to camp. You'll be safe there and I'm sure you'll enjoy it. Any other half-bloods who've heard of it love it." The girl lifted her bow and began to draw back before we could get any further.

"I'm not like other people," she growled. "Leave me alone and get out of here!" She was about to release, and I was prepared to jump in front of the arrow again, when there was a loud screech. It broke through the air, piercing through my head making it pound. As soon as it ended, thunder rumbled in the distance. The girl blinked and regarded us coldly. Reluctantly she took the arrow off her bow string and placed it back in her quiver with a flourish.

"Um, what just happened?" I asked confused. The girl muttered something I couldn't make out while giving me the evil eye.

"Follow me," she instructed then began to walk through the clearing to the other side. She slung her bow over her shoulder, surprisingly not getting her already matted hair twisted up in it. Folding her arms she paused on the other side and turned to look back at us. "Well? Are you coming or not?" I blinked in surprise and gave a small shrug. If this girl was going to be somewhat nice instead of trying to kill us; I wasn't about to argue.

"We might as well," Annabeth reasoned. With a quick nod the girl turned away and began to walk. She wove in and out the trees with ease, half the time she wasn't even in view. It was thanks to Grover we managed to actually follow her.

Eventually, after about ten minutes we were close enough so that she was in sight. She paused and let out a shrill whistle. "Aria!" she called. For the first time, her voice sounded genuinely happy. A second later a young barn owl swooped in and alighted on her shoulder. She resumed walking, scratching the owl's head.

A minute later the thick trees cleared, and my jaw dropped at the sight before me. It was the largest tree I had ever seen; even the trees at camp couldn't compare. It was taller than the three-story Big House at camp, and was as wide as an average room (dimension wise). The branches spanned so far, I couldn't even see where they ended. Some of the lower branches looked like they might be wide like sidewalks.

A long rope was hanging from one of the low branches. It looked worn and dingy, with knots in it every couple feet. The girl didn't say anything to us. She cooed softly to the owl and it spiraled up into flight. The girl walked over to the rope and began to pull herself up. She was fast, her hands going over top of each other so fast it was almost a blur. I can defiantly see why she had so much muscle.

We had to follow up the best we could. Pausing often to help Grover scramble up, since he doesn't have feet to use. Glancing up, I saw the girl looked down on us annoyed, like she couldn't believe we were so slow. Pulling ourselves to the top, I looked around in awe. But my thoughts and amazement was interrupted soon.

"So, why are we here and what's your name?" Annabeth asked the girl. I looked over and saw she was extremely uncomfortable. When she noticed me looking, she glared hard at me with her two-coloured eyes. I looked away quickly, they were extremely unsettling. Maybe one was fake . . . unlikely.

"My name is Arthemia," she told us quietly in a cold tone. "And this tree has been my home for the past two years." I looked around in surprise. This? She lived her for two years? That takes guts and brain, and a strange nature. From what I've seen, this is defiantly a wild girl.


	5. Leaving

Arthemia: Leaving

I still couldn't believe I had chosen to bring them to The Tree. I felt slow fury rising up inside me, these people, here, in front of me! The 'Great Heroes of Olympus'. They had just randomly appeared here, with disguises – and they wanted to take me away! Who really cares if they saved the world, I'm sure things would have been fine. Screw the fact they were heroes – that wasn't going to change anything.

I had been about to let loose another arrow on them, when unfortunately I had been interrupted. The loud screech, it may have sounded harsh to the others, but I understood it perfectly. It was a clear warning, don't do anything, or else you'll pay. Then there was the peal of thunder, that may been what had me make up my mind. It was as close to an order as thunder can get. I already knew about thunder from the Books. And this was no different. I knew I had to be nice to them . . . or something like that. Nice is too good of a word – tolerate them would be more accurate.

So I took them to The Tree. When we arrived in the clearing, I didn't even give them a backwards glance. I merely walked over to the rope and scurried up with ease. It was a waste of time to wait for them, but I decided to be polite. They were staring at The Tree in awe. I can't say I don't blame them. The Tree is a beautiful place; I can never imagine life without it.

When Annabeth (it was so obviously her. I mean, who else had grey eyes, blond hair, and hangs out with an invincible guy?) had asked me who I was and why I brought them here. I don't know why I chose to tell the truth. A lie would have been simpler. But I never had been very good at lying.

In all honesty, I burst into laughter at their faces when I told them The Tree was my home. I laughed coldly at them; it was just so amusing seeing their expressions! Dumbfounded, they looked around at The Tree. Percy's face was priceless and I wished I had a camera or something.

"You – you live here? What? How?" Percy asked me in awe. I scowled in his direction; I noticed he made an effort to _not_ look at me.

"What does it matter?" I snapped. "And I don't have to answer anything." Their faces paled, but I ignored them. I stepped around them, my feet balancing perfectly on the slight slope of the wide branch. Coming back to the level part, I swiftly walked to the large trunk. There, I had taken many fallen branch and created a large platform between the branch I was on and another one nearby. The platform was extremely large, roughly the size of a bed. It was sturdy and solid, designed with practicality in mind.

I pulled my quiver and bow over my head and leaned them carefully against the trunk. Next to it was an old, dirty and worn side bag. The same bag I had taken with me exactly two years ago. Inside my laptop and iPod were still safely tucked away. Not a scratch on them and no usage at all. The only other things inside the bag were the Books. The very books these people know with were supposed to have come from. Looks like these books are real; I supposed I should stop calling them fiction then.

I sat down at the edge of the platform, my legs dangling over the edge. My long messy hair floated lightly around me in the breeze. A minute later, Aria glided towards me and alighted on my shoulder. I sighed and looked about the forest, Aria preening herself calmly beside me. It would have been the perfect moment; but there was of course the fact I wasn't alone.

Behind me, I heard them all scramble along the tree branch. For 'great heroes' they didn't seem that coordinated. Eventually, they did manage to reach the platform.

"Hey G-Man, you sure she's not a dryad? Who lives in a tree?" I heard a low masculine voice say. Percy, I think, if I'm recognizing the sound correctly.

I turned around and looked harshly at him, "For your information, I _am not_ a dryad. Do I look like an elf to you? Besides, the trees here are asleep, so hypothetically I would be unable to even be one. Not that I am nature-loving elf." Yes, my mouth does tend to run on. I can't help but express myself. Two years alone had done little to temper it. Once I had said that, I really wish I hadn't. Momentarily I had forgotten I had the Lord of the Wild in front of me, and his girlfriend was a dryad. His face got a sad hurt and slightly angry expression. "Err, sorry 'bout that," I muttered hastily. "I didn't mean it like that. I have nothing against dryads, but I'm not one."

"It's fine," said Grover (so obviously him) still miffed. "Just try not to let a dryad actually hear you say that." I rolled my eyes at him, like I was that stupid. I turned away from them and looked back out over the forest. I noticed the sun was nearly down. Soon it would be time to rest; I wondered what I would do then.

"Um, Arthemia," said a feminine voice, I turned my head slightly and saw Annabeth crouching next to me. "It's getting late, and well . . . we were wondering, what exactly was your plan bringing us here? We can't find our way out, we'll need something to eat and someplace to sleep so . . ." She trailed off, her analyzing grey eyes giving me a questioning look.

"For sleep, it depends if you prefer the ground or up here. For food, there's plenty of plant life for you Donkey-Boy. As for you two, how do you like your meat?" Annabeth glanced backwards confused. Before I could get a reply I slipped down towards the forest floor.

Now, I know what you're thinking: _She's going to die!_ But this was intentional. As I went down, my long hair flew up like a torch of pure dark fire. As I fell, the ground rushed up to meet me. My feet touched the ground and I used the momentum to fall into a kneeling position. I smiled inwardly to myself, feeling the rush of the fall leave me.

Rising to my feet, I looked back up into the tree. Annabeth's face was visible over the edge of the platform, her stormy grey eyes wide in disbelief. I crossed my arms and tapped my foot impatiently, to let her know I was waiting. Her face disappeared from view and I heard movement coming from above. A minute later all three of them slid down the rope one after the other.

Without a second glance, I walked swiftly around to the other side if The Tree. They followed me silently. I stopped in front of the fire pit. Basically it's a hole I dug in the ground surrounded by stone's blackened after years of use. A pile of dry brush-wood was laid against the trunk of The Tree to be kept dry for fuel. They caught up behind me and stopped next to me.

"Donkey-Boy?" Grover huffed. "I am not a donkey! I'm half goat!"

Rolling my eyes I said, "Personally you look more like a donkey then a goat. Minis the horns. Which are barely visible, even now."

"So, what did you mean when you ask how we liked our meat?" Annabeth interrupted. For an answer I went to the other side of the pit and pulled out two skinned rabbits, still sitting fresh in the hides. I sat down cross-legged next to an organized pile of various herbs and berries. Setting the rabbits in front of me, I pealed back the skins and exposed the meat and bones of the rabbit. I pulled out my old stone knife from underneath my clothing. The old blade was crudely made and worn, the stone lightly stained with dark blood of previous kills. I cut a small slit in the chest of each rabbit and began placing different herbs inside of them.

A shadow fell over top of me and I paused what I was doing and looked up. Percy and Annabeth were looking at me confused and a little grossed out. Grover looked down right horrified. "What?" I growled.

"That's horrible! You just kill animals as you please? How do you think they feel?" Grover burst, his eyes smouldering.

"Look, you may see it as ending a life. For me it's a matter of survival. And it's not like I waste anything. So do not get mad at me," I hissed back. He opened his mouth to respond but Percy slapped his hand over Grover's mouth.

"Arthemia, what exactly are you doing?" Percy asked me. Before I respond, Aria swooped in and dropped something from her talons into my lap. She rested on my knee and I looked down into my lap. I bent over and kissed her feathery head in happiness.

"Perfect," I murmured and separated the berries, adding them to each rabbit. After I did that, I took two cleaned and whittled sticks over a foot in length. I carefully threaded them through the rabbits so they were skewered rotisserie-style. I stood up and set one on a supports next to the pit, laying the raw rabbit over the dead fire pit.

I piled some of the brush-wood into the pit and snapped my fingers over top it. The connection of my fingers acted like flint, and a spark floated down, lighting to wood into a blaze. Slowly the rabbit began to cook. I settled myself in front of it, turning it every few minutes. The others sat around me looking confused.

"What are you doing?" Annabeth asked me eventually. I rolled my eyes in annoyance.

"What does it look like? I'm cooking supper. Or would you prefer to go hungry?" I said in an O-so-superior tone. Annabeth glared at me annoyed. I held her gaze coldly; she didn't scare me. After a minute, her look softened and she looked at Percy. We all lapsed into uncomfortable silence.

Within under a half an hour, the first rabbit had been roasted to perfection. Well, as best as you could do for an open flame and an untrained cook. And I know half an hour doesn't seem like long enough for a meal to cook, but the flames I create are very hot. Grasping the cool end of the skewer, I lifted it off the fire and offered it to them. "You can eat first, since you're technically guests. And I am not poisoning you, if that's what you're thinking, and it will not be my fault if you burn yourself," I explained stiffly. Percy took it carefully, and held it in front of Annabeth. They look down at it, then looked at each other, then at me in confusion. "I don't have cutlery, use your hands. I'm sure that was self explanatory." They looked at me strangely, and I looked at them both with an expressionless mask over my face.

I set my own skewered rabbit up on the supports and added more brush-wood to the fire. Annabeth and Percy began to eat their rabbit. They pulled apart the tender meat by grasping the bones. So they were eating it kind of like ribs. It was fairly funny to see Percy burn his hand though, I smirked and shook my head in amusement at that. I did give them a fair warning.

My own rabbit took less time than theirs to cook. The flame had gotten hotter. I took mine off and let the fire die down on its own. Percy and Annabeth began to dig into their meal happily. Judging by their expressions they had been expecting some gross half raw sort of meat. Holding the ends of the stick, I bit into the warm rabbit that was my own dinner. I know it may seem a little savage, but it was practical and easy.

The herbs and berries I had stuffed into the rabbit had blended perfectly with the rabbit meat. The hidden juices and flavours had been drawn out by the heat and soaked nicely into the rabbit. I finished it quickly, leaving nothing but a pile of somewhat messy bones next to me. Grover's face was pure murder at that, and I laughed to myself. The other rabbit was finished a minute and we sat in silence, Percy and Annabeth wiping their fingers clean.

"You're a good cook," Percy commented eventually. "That was . . . really good." I shrugged and looked at them coolly. The sun had gone down completely, and the dimming fire threw strange shadows over their faces.

"I suppose I should say thank you," I muttered. He looked offended but I didn't really care. He was an idiot boy who couldn't put anything into words.

"Um, Arthemia," Annabeth said. "We know you're kind of . . . against it, but you really need to come to Camp with us. You can't stay out here to long, it's dangerous."

I scowled and looked fiercely at her, "I am not leaving. Ever. I've been here for years; it can't get any more dangerous. I am never leaving the forest, you can't make me." She looked at me sadly. Without waiting for a reply I stood up abruptly and turned away. "Look, you three can stay here for the night, but tomorrow, you're out of here."

"Where would we sleep?" Grover asked meekly.

"Either down here or up in The Tree. Depends what you prefer," I said harshly.

"Maybe we could avoid staying in the tree . . ." he said. I walked over to a pile half hidden in the folds of The Tree trunk. It was a pile of large furs I had skinned and dried in the two years I had been here. I picked up the top three and flung them back the others without looking. I heard them land with a light thud on the ground. I straighten and turned around to face them, crossing my arms.

"Blankets," I explained. Grover looked at them in disgust and wouldn't touch them. Annabeth and Percy settled down the best they could, wrinkling their noses in annoyance and disgust. After a few minutes they we're all lying down and settled for sleep. Percy and Annabeth were lying next to each, holding hands. Right, they were a couple. It still amazes me that someone as smart as Annabeth Chase could be in love with someone as stupid as Percy Jackson. The guy's got irrational bravery, that's it. He often nearly dies. You would think a girl into the Hunter's wouldn't put up with him.

I walked over to the far side of the fire and lay down on by back. My mind whirled with thoughts, so many I could barely keep track of them. Eventually, I closed my eyes against the light of the stars and moon and fell into a deep sleep. I wish it had lasted.

Out of the darkness of my sleep, I suddenly found myself somewhere else. I was in a dark room, dimly lit by some unknown source. It had old wooden furniture. Two tables in front of me, I was a few paces back from where their corners touched. Across from me was a cabinet with smashed glass doors. An open window was to the left of it. The sound of rain pounded against the roof. Outside the window lightning flashed.

Standing between and the table and the window was me, yet not me. It looked like me, only a year or maybe two older. The other me was dressed in dark brown clothing, her hair still retained the odd colours, and it was shorter than mine. Mine went to my knees, while the other me's went to her waist. The other me's eyes flashed dangerously, glaring harshly at someone across from her, closer to me. Lightning flashed again and I caught my breath.

It was my father.

He was older then when I had last seen him, but it was defiantly him. He was wearing torn clothing, and his skin was a deathly pale colour. He was leaning against a table, gripping it so hard his knuckles turned white, his knees knocking in fright. I almost felt sorry for him – almost.

"Arthemia," he gasped in shock. "Please -" The other me cut him off my hissing angrily.

"You left me," she accused. "You left me to die! You never cared about me! You wanted me gone! You left me." My father's mouth opened and closed, whether it was in fright or shock I couldn't tell.

"I never meant to," he managed. The other me glared even more harshly at him.

"You left me," she repeated. "You left me." She pulled something out from under her clothing. It glinted dully. A strange buzzing rang in my ears. "You left me to DIE!" she screamed; then she lunged forward a thrust her stone knife in the heart of my father. She let go of the hilt and jumped out of the window. Leaving my father gasping and collapsed on the ground.

I woke up sharply, a high-pitched scream tearing itself out of my throat. My heart pounded wildly against my breast, and my body felt cold and slick with sweat. I clamped my jaw shut, stifling the scream. Fast as quicksilver I was on my feet and hauling myself up the rope. Putting myself away from the now waking people.

I didn't stop climbing when I reached the platform. Without thinking I grasped branches and kept climbing, taking myself to the topmost branches of The Tree. Once there, I curled into a tight ball, tears glistening in the corners of my eyes. Is that what would happen to me? She had my stone knife, if I stayed here, would I become that? Would I become so cold and heartless, that I would kill my own father? No, no, it couldn't be true! But what if it was? What if that dream had been showing me a possible future, one that would happen unless I went with the three that had turned up today? What if I didn't go with them and that's what happened? What if . . . ? There were too many, 'what ifs'.

Finally I managed to fall into a dark sleep. One that was dreamless.

A sharp nip on the ear woke me up. I blinked my tired eyes open to brightening sunlight. Another sharp nip on my left ear. I lifted my head and looked over. Aria was perched on my shoulder, concern showing in her deep brown eyes. I sighed and rub her head fondly. She fluttered to the branch I was sitting on and I stretched.

"Come on Aria," I said a cheerfully as I could manage. "How 'bout we go see how the others fared in their night in the forest?" She cooed softly, and I allowed myself to smile inwardly at her.

Grasping the branches, I began the slow, tiresome descent down to the platform. A minute later I dropped down and landed with a thud and a creak of wood. I blinked and looked in surprise at the sight before me.

Three groggy teenagers were sitting there, two facing each other. One being extremely nosy and poking through my stuff. I spun on my heel and glared icily at the back of the boy's head. Black hair . . . of course it would be Percy, the vile idiot!

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING?" I yelled angrily at him. Stomping over to him, I slammed my fist onto his head. It stung I little bit, him being invincible and all, but other than that, nothing lessened my anger, if anything it grew. He whirled around in shocked, slight fear on his face. Oh how hilarious!

"Oh! Arthemia! Uh – um – uh, I was just looking! I'm sorry!" he yelped nervously. He scrambled backwards towards the others, and I stalked after him.

"Don't you DARE touch my stuff!" I screamed at him. "How dare you look through my things!" he whirled around, his eyes widening at the sight of me glaring icily at him. Was the great hero scared? It appeared so, good for him. He scuttled around me, making his way back to the other two. "WELL?" I screamed after a minute. He shook slightly.

"I – I . . . um, well . . . I – I was curious and . . . please calm down!" he managed to stutter.

"You EVER touch my stuff again," I threatened. "And I will PERSONALLY stab you in EVERY SINGLE point on your body until you're DEAD! Got it?" his eyes widen further in shock, and undoubtedly fully understanding I was _deadly_ serious. A moment later, he managed to nod shakily. Still seething, I turned away from him and knelt down by my bag.

I looked through it to see what he had been looking at. My books were sitting on top, tossed there carelessly, The Lightning Thief opened to a seemly random page. I closed it gently, and set the books back into the bag. My iPod was sitting in the bag, the screen lit up as it turned on. Scowling I turned it off again and snapped the bag shut.

Grumbling, I pulled my quiver and bow over my head. I folded my arms crossly and turned back around, giving the half-bloods (and satyr) a death glare. Percy was cowering behind Annabeth, Grover was looking up at the tree-tops, and Annabeth was looking at me with an analyzing expression. Her stormy grey eyes flickering often to my two-coloured eyes. I held her gaze coldly, rage still seething inside of me.

"Arthemia," she said eventually. "I can tell you want us out of here as soon as possible." Well, didn't I make that obvious? "But, we really need to know. Will you come back to Camp with us? I don't think forcing you would work, and you'd be much better off." I sighed sharply and turned away from them. I walked over to the edge of the platform and stared moodily out into the forest. Could I really leave? Could I do now what I couldn't do two year ago? Two years ago, when I was stronger, more ready to leave; yet at that time I couldn't. Could I really leave now? Leave behind the place I had lived in for my whole life? Leave behind Aria? Leave the world I knew . . . could I really do it?

Then I thought back to the dream I had last night. Is that really what would happen? And what would happen now, now that I knew I was a demigod. Would monster attack me, instead of just crazed animals? I wouldn't have any way of knowing. And if I was attacked, would I have the means to kill them? I doubt the tips of my arrows were Celestial Bronze or anything. But then again, whoever said I had to stay at Camp? She only mentioned _going._ What if I went, and left after I arrived? I could keep tracking how far and in what direction we had gone in easily. I could always leave and come back when I felt like it. And I could simply swipe a Celestial Bronze or Stygian Iron weapon before leaving, that way I could stop monsters. All of this was possible, doable, but it still seemed insane. But with a good plan in mind, what could go wrong? Not much as long as I payed attention. In that instant, I made up my mind.

I turned back around to them, slight doubt still lingering in my mind. "Alright," I muttered. "I'll go." All three of them looked relived at this. I scowled slightly and looked sadly up into the tops of The Tree. My home for two years. My world for my whole life. And now I was going to leave it.

"We should get an early start," Percy said. "It'll be a couple hours to drive back to Camp. Arthemia, can you get ready to leave and guide us out of here?"

"I'm already set," I snapped. "Just wait for me at the bottom." They nodded and stood up. I watched them carefully walked down the wide tree branch and climbed down the rope. Once they were at the bottom, I shouldered my side bag and walked over to where the rope was tied to the tree branch. Crouching down, I untied it and let fall down to the ground below. There was no turning back now.

I looked sadly back up at The Tree again. It was my home, it's wasn't easy to leave. Turing away from it, I took a deep breath, and pushed myself over the edge of the branch. My hand clutched tightly to my side bag, and the air whistled loudly past my ears. I loved this feeling. All too soon the ground rushed up to meet me and I fell into my usual crouch.

I stood up stiffly, and looked coldly for a second at the others. I glanced one last time at The Tree out of the corner of my eye. Then I walked swiftly away, and I didn't look back once. If I did I knew I wouldn't be able to leave, I wouldn't have to courage to actually do what I was about to do.

The others followed me without a word, maybe they knew what this was like for me, and maybe they didn't. Although she flew silently, I knew Aria was tailing us, no doubt wondering what was going on. I could sense her coming after us.

I first led them back to the clearing where I had first met them. That way I could retrieve the arrows I had accidentally left there. Sloppy work. If I had left them, the gods know who would have found them and then what would happen? I place them back in my quiver and continued heading out of the forest. I paused when we reached the edge of the house's property line. Looking up, I remember how my whole life had been this one house. How this forest had been my whole world. And now, that world was expanding. I tore my eyes away from the house and walked sullenly down the driveway.

I halted at the sight of the car. Judging by the hood that looked like someone had tried to bang out dents with a hammer; I assumed it was the same Prius from The Last Olympian. That didn't make me feel any more comfortable. I had only been in a car once or twice before. If I ever needed to go into town (and that was rare) I had just run. It may be far to most people, but I'm not most people and my stamina held up fine; running there and back. No, I didn't like the idea of being stuck in a car for hours at all.

Percy took out some key, and clicked a button. The car beeped and the doors unlocked. He opened the trunk, and I set my side bag in side, my eyes shooting daggers at him slightly. I refused to give up possession of my bow. He looked at me expectantly and I looked menacingly into his eyes.

"We can't go around driving while you're holding a bow. It makes no sense. At best the Mist will make it look like a giant stick. Put it in, we're not thieves, you'll get it back," he said. I scowled at him, but unfortunately, he had good reasoning. Reluctantly I pulled the quiver strap and bow over my head. Hesitantly, I placed them in the trunk. I stepped back and Percy shut the lid quietly.

At that moment, Aria swooped in and landed on my shoulder. She could softly and nipped my ear with nervous affection. I felt tears for behind the corners of my eyes at the thought of leaving her. I was practically her mother; I had raised her since she could barely fly. I couldn't just leave her.

I moved away from the others, not wanting them to be near me as I said good-bye to my only friend these past two years (I know, that does sound strange, but it is the truth). Aria hopped down my arm and rested lightly on my outstretched hand. I kissed her feathery head sadly.

"Aria," I whispered to her hoarsely. "I have to go, and you have to stay here. You need to go now, you belong here." I raised my head, causing her to rise into flight. She spiraled around me for a moment, then flapped her wings and went slightly back into the forest. I walked back to the other, my eyes flashing with hard pain at them. If they said _anything,_ I wouldn't hesitate to strike.

The car doors were all open, with Grover and Annabeth already sitting inside. Percy was standing next the car looking at me strangely. I glowered at him and he quickly looked away. I hesitated briefly before climbing into the car. I hated these things, so uncomfortable, and they completely limited my range of movement. I climbed in and sat down on the hard seat, Grover was sitting across from me. A horrible car ride next to Donkey-Boy, could this get any worse?

I had barely sat down in the seat when there was a flurry of movement and a small rush of air. I blinked in surprise; sitting balanced on my knee was Aria. But I knew she understood what I had just told her so why . . . She hooted sharply and I stared at her. Surely I couldn't be hearing her tone right.

Grover gave a small laugh. "Apparently you can't get rid of her that easily. She said that wherever you're going, she's going too." I glared slightly in his direction.

"I know what she said," I mumbled testily. "But she's can't come with me, it wouldn't be safe or fair to her." At this she sharply nipped at my hand, an annoyed look in her deep brown eyes. "Alright," I relented. "It's you choice. Don't say I didn't warn you." She hooted in amusement and tucked her head under her wing. I sighed, well that was settled; she was going to come with me whether I liked it or not.

I slammed the car door shut loudly and Percy climbed into the driver's seat in front of me. The idiot boy was driving . . . why couldn't it be Annabeth who had a brain in her head and used it? Percy started the ignition and the car roared loudly to life. I gritted my teeth in annoyance at it and reluctantly did up the seat belt. The sped off at a moderate pace down the long driveway of my former home. I was on my way.

We hadn't gone five minutes past getting onto the main road before I lost it. I was completely stifled in there and I couldn't last sitting still for much longer. I was used to freedom, to be able to run and climb when I wanted. Being tied down in a seat was much different and a lot more irksome then that.

I rolled down the window all the way. Well, as far as it would go. Back windows sadly don't roll down all the way. That just seemed to add insult to injury. I stared longingly out at the forest the whole time. Remembering events that had happened in those very trees. I knew this place better then a mother knows her child. And I was leaving it for a place that would limit my freedom. I was being a completely irrational fool.

Ten more minutes of driving and me starting to get even more edgy, and we pasted out of the reaches of the forest. We sped into wide farmland, then into the reaches of the town. As we entered it, I lowered myself in the seat so I was barely visible. Anyone who saw me would recognize me. They all knew about the odd-looking girl who had vanished two years ago into the 'cursed forest'. At least, I assumed they knew. My father had left alone, so it was only logical to assume that.

Once through the town I sat back up. Somehow my movement managed not to disturb the sleeping Aria. As we sped through various town and cities on our way to Long Island, I couldn't help but stare wide-eyed in wonder. I had never seen such things and places. I couldn't help but be amazed and a little sickened, there was so much bustle. No one cared about nature and no one payed any attention to their home life. It was a little sad.

It was insane when we reached Manhattan. I'm not sure how it worked. Maybe Percy got the car magically changed, or knew some very strange short cuts. But we managed to reach Manhattan within the same day just around noon. And I was aghast.

The city was _huge._ Everyone all moving around, yelling, honking, driving, doing just about anything you can do. All at once, all trying to do things first. The place was a huge metropolitan. I hated it. I didn't like the noise, I didn't like how busy it was, and I especially didn't like the humongous buildings all around us. I was glad when we got past it and went into the cottage-land of Long Island.

Finally, finally we turned onto Farm Road.

Percy stopped the car at the base of a ring of tall hills. At the top of the tallest hill was a lone pine tree. Thalia's pine tree. Something golden glittered in the lowest bough, flashing brightly like a sheet of new pennies. The Golden Fleece. Wrapped around the base of the pine tree was large purple and copper mass, lying tangled like a thrown pile of coils. Peleus, guardian for the Golden Fleece. I was at the bottom of Half-Blood Hill.

The car doors unlocked and the trunk popped open. Aria had woken up a minute before and had already soared out the window. I undid the seat belt and was out of there in a flash. Relishing the movement of my limbs. I flung the lid of the trunk open and hastily pulled my bow and quiver strap over my head. I picked up my side bag and slung it over my shoulder. Closing the lid forcefully and began tromping up the side of Half-Blood Hill. Aria flew swiftly next to me, cooing her soft voice and looked around the unfamiliar area with her large brown eyes.

I walked to the crest of the hill and stared down at the camp that was layed out before me. It was more spectacular then I had even imagined. Next to me, Peleus raised a relaxed head in my direction. Most people would feel fear, I didn't. No animal, mortal or mythological truly scares me.

Peleus was about eighteen feet long, six feet longer then he was in the books. Looks like he's grown. He batted his head playfully against my leg and I looked down at him. Bending over, I lightly scratched him under his chin. He crossed his eyes and blew steam out of his nose in pleasure. Aria alighted gently on his head and began looking through his scales for anything interesting or dead. I kept scratching him and felt a small smile tug at the corner of my mouth. I had left the forest, and now I was in a new 'temporary' home.


	6. A Painful Past

Percy: A Painful Past

Arthemia certainly was eager to get out of the car. I mean, we all were, car rides and ADHD don't mix, but she was hating the whole ride. She probably didn't realize it, but she was glowering the entire ride at us. I'm glad that as soon as I parked I popped the trunk. Otherwise she might have flipped and damaged the car.

Once me, Annabeth, and Grover were ready we climbed Half-Blood Hill after Arthemia. She was standing next to Thalia's Pine Tree, looking almost . . . happy. Her owl friend, Aria, was sitting on top of Peleus's head picking stuff out of his scales. Arthemia was bent over and scratching Peleus under his chin. His eyes were crossed and he was blowing steam out of his nostrils. She seemed pretty talented; Peleus doesn't usually take so well to people.

Walking up behind her, I saw an almost smile on her face. The look in her two coloured eyes wasn't as harsh as it had been. It made her look almost like she was pleased. Aria hooted and fluttered as I tapped Arthemia on the shoulder.

She stopped scratching Peleus and straightened up. "What?" she snapped. Any nice look she had just had vanished. Her hand tightened around the strap of her bag, and I was suddenly _very_ aware of the fact she was armed and that her arrows and bow were in her reach. Maybe giving them back to her was a bad idea . . . no, _not_ giving them back to her would have been a recipe for disaster.

"Uh . . ." I suddenly found myself tongue-tied when faced with those glaring different coloured eyes. "Just . . . nice job, you have a way with animals. Peleus isn't normally so welcoming with new campers." To prove my point, I reached my hand out towards Peleus. He growled for a second before letting me rub his head.

"Maybe it's because you're a guy," she growled under her breath. I frowned and looked at her for a second, she held my eyes menacingly. After a minute, I had to look away; her gaze was just too creepy.

"Um, right . . ." I mumbled. "So, how do you like the looks of camp?" I noticed how her eyes drifted over the valley. They settled on the woods – probably thinking of climbing the trees.

"Not half bad," she said.

"Um, great. Anyways, I'm gonna go and tell Chiron you're here. Bye!" I glanced once more at Arthemia before jogging of into Camp.

Everyone was already busy doing their afternoon activities, so Camp was quiet as I headed down to the Big House. It was actually quite nice, no obsessive fan girls (I have a few . . . they're annoying). A couple campers and satyrs were playing a game of beach volleyball and I waved to them as I went up to the Big House. They were too engrossed in their game to wave back, so I went on to the Big House.

I walked into the Big House's sitting room to a surprising scene. Chiron was standing up in full centaur form wearing his _My Other Car is a Centaur_ shirt under his tweed jacket. His arms were folded and he was looking at Mr. D with an annoyed look. Dionysus was lounging on the couch sipping a can of Diet Coke. He was looking at Chiron like he didn't really care, which he probably didn't.

"- For the last time you can't – Percy! You're back!" Chiron said. Apparently I had walked in on an argument. I blinked and looked back and forth between them before nodding.

"Yeah, we just got back Chiron," I said.

"Good," he nodded. "I trust everything went well and you found the demigod?"

"We did, she's here. She's also read the books, but . . . she's not exactly normal," I said.

"None of you brats are normal," Mr. D muttered.

"Um right," I said trying to ignore him. "Anyways, you know how you said she'd be in tune with nature? Well, that was an understatement." Chiron frowned at me.

"How so?"

"We-el . . ." I was cut off by stomping, and loud voices. One particular bell-like voice.

"- Really a goat! You look like a donkey to me – Donkey-Boy!" Arthemia practically yelled. Annabeth walked into the room looking exasperated. She was glaring skyward and muttering something to herself. Arthemia and Grover walked in after her. Arthemia was glaring and her owl was perched on her shoulder. Grover looked extremely annoyed; he had taken off his fake shoes so his hooves were showing. He looked ready to pull out a cudgel and brain Arthemia. Most satyrs would do this for being called a donkey, but Grover is normally much more peaceable.

"Stop calling me that! I am not a donkey!" He yelled.

"Be quiet you two!" Chiron said. He looked at Grover, warning him to set an example. Too bad that wouldn't work. He turned to Arthemia with a kinder eye. "Now, you are clearly the new demigod. Percy tells me you've read the books we published. Tell me, what do you think of Camp, and what is your name?" Arthemia turned to Chiron still mad, but when she saw him she took a deep breath. She stared at him for a second; taking in the fact he was a centaur. She calmed herself down somewhat and composed herself with dignity.

"My name's Arthemia," she said in a calm bland tone, her voice ringing like tinkling bells in the room. "And Camp is more spectacular then I could ever imagine."

"I can't see how, you have a pretty good imagination," I muttered under my breath. After all, it was an obvious thing that she was lying. Unfortunately for me, she has supersonic hearing. She stiffened and turned to me.

"How would you . . . ?" her eyes widened as she realized what I had meant. Her right eye darkened until it looked almost black; her left eye smouldered, changing from burning yellow to a glowing orange. "You – you – you _went_ into my _rooms?_ " she screeched, pulling out her stone knife from somewhere in her clothing. "You looked through my things? You went through my _work?_ You vile, stupid, idiotic, coward stink-hole of a _boy!_ How dare you!" She bolted to me, looking as ugly as a Dracaena. She was fast, almost too fast. Before she could close enough to do any real damage, a vine shot out of the ground and wrapped around her waist. She gasped as the air was knocked out of her. Immediately, another grew and wrapped tightly around her wrist, forcing her to drop her knife.

I stepped back and looked at Chiron, trying to say _now you see what I mean?_ Chiron certainly looked unsettled. From the couch, Mr. D sighed and looked at us even more bored. Arthemia was seething, a calm fury that scared the bijibees out of me.

"Please," Mr. D spoke up. "As much as I would _love_ to get rid of Peter Johnson, he's very hard to kill, and it's too much paper work. So you will control yourself – understand?" A faint purple fire was alight in his eyes, the kind he gets when he's really annoyed. Arthemia looked at him for a minute, before nodding slowly, the anger drained from her.

"Fine," she muttered sourly. Mr. D snapped his fingers and the vines disappeared leaving behind the faint smell of wine. Arthemia stood there for a second before retrieving her knife and hiding it away. I was just glad she didn't try to shoot someone. Chiron cleared his throat, bringing us back to his attention.

"Sit, all of you," Chiron said. "We have matters to discuss." We sank into chairs; Arthemia just leaned against a wall instead. "Now Arthemia, could we please have your last name? And perhaps you could explain what that little . . . outburst was about." Arthemia looked harshly at Chiron from behind her hair.

"I don't have a last name," she hissed. "Not anymore. And the reason I got so is mad is because Fish Breath, and probably the rest of them here, went through my _things_. Which were secured in my _room,_ which is nearly impossible reach without a guide. And those . . . things were not meant for anyone but me to see."

"They were posted all over a wall!" I protested. "And they were of Camp and the people in it! I think we all have a right to see them if they are about us!"

"No. You. Don't," she hissed turning her harsh gaze to me.

"Arthemia," Chiron cut in. "Focus, we will discuss that topic later. What I wish to know is why you say you don't have a last name." Arthemia sighed moodily and folded her arms.

"I said it because it's true, I don't have a last name," she growled. Chiron still looked confused, as was I. Annabeth cleared her throat.

"Chiron, maybe we should explain, uh, _where_ she was," Annabeth said. Chiron looked at Arthemia once more, her ridged posture, her harsh and dangerous expression. He sighed and nodded.

"Yes, that would be ideal."

"Okay, well you see when we ran into her she -"

"Don't," Arthemia snapped. "You have no right to tell anyone of my life."

"Then you could tell us," Mr. D drawled. "It'd be nice to get this over with, it's rather irritating."

"Nobody's keeping you here," she said. "You don't have to stay if you don't want to."

"Mmm? That is true, but unfortunally nothing better to do is coming to mind."

"Please focus," Chiron interrupted again. "And I do believe Mr. D has a point, this would be much easier if you told us."

Arthemia looked scarily around the room from under her long hair. Finally she growled in her throat and brushed her honey-blonde streak behind her ear. "I guess I'd have to tell you eventually. And I might as well start at the beginning."

"That would be ideal."

"Fine. I'll start off by saying I didn't have a normal childhood. Most people went to school, made friends, did all that stupid stuff. I didn't. I never went to school, I never . . . socialized."

"That would explain a lot," I muttered. "So do you mean you were homeschooled?"

"No," she glared at me. "I wasn't homeschooled. I never got an education. My _father_ said I didn't need it. He didn't care about me; he left me to do my own thing. Everything I know is self-taught. I never did normal things; ordinary children went to schools, made friends, lived outside their home. I didn't, I stayed home. The only things I really know about the world is through reading. The only human contact aside from my _father_ is when I ran into town for supplies." I noticed every time she said the word father she spat it out like poison. "Finally I got fed up with a parent who didn't care about me. That's when I left. Two years ago yesterday I ran away from my stink-hole of a life. And I was living happily until these three trespassers ruined everything!" She glared at all of us, and I flinched.

"That certainly is . . . a strange life," Chiron said after a minute. "Most parents care deeply for their demigod children. And normally it is a monster that drives you out of your home. But what I don't understand is exactly where you were staying these past few years. But I assume it is safe to guess that it has something to do with the barn owl on your shoulder."

"Her name is Aria," she said sullenly. "I nursed her back to health. And I was living peacefully in the woods that surrounded my former home for miles. And I would still be there if I wasn't dragged here!" She was shaking in anger now, and suddenly a thought struck me. Tentatively I raised my hand. "What?" she hissed angrily at me.

"Um, are you basically saying that after you ran away your dad just . . . left?" I asked. Arthemia scowled at me.

"Of course he just left me!" she screeched. On her shoulder, Aria hooted sharply and rubbed her beak against Arthemia cheek. Arthemia closed her eyes and took deep breaths. "I need to be alone." She hissed and started walking out of the room.

"It will be no better out there then it will be here," Chiron said. "But if you must go, first tell us what forest you . . . resided in."

"Larchorn," she growled before stomping out of the room. I stared after her as she vanished from sight. For the first time, I understood why she was so mean. She had had a rough life. A pampered life, but rough at the same time.

"I feel sorry for her," Annabeth said. She could relate. She knew what it meant to have such a bad relationship with a parent you just had to run away.

"So do I," I said. "It certainly explains her attitude."

"Percy!"

"What?"

"Quiet down you two," Chiron said. "I need some time to think over this. You shall leave her alone for now. Help her if she needs it, but I doubt she will seeing as she has read the books. Now go, and Grover, you have duties to attend too." We nodded and filed out of the Big House.

Once outside, Grover scampered off leaving me and Annabeth. We walked down to the cabins in silence. Leaving her at her own cabin, I said good-bye and went down to the arena. I need some time to think myself. I mulled over what Arthemia had told us, it certainly was painfully sad.

Uncapping my pen, my enchanted Celestial bronze sword Riptide, sprung to life in my hand. I went to work on the straw dummies. Trying to calm down. I couldn't believe Arthemia had told us what she did; it was a very sad past. A horrible one. I can't imagine life without my mother there to support me. Her father had left her.

Despite her obvious hatred of me, I actually kind of liked her. She would be cool to hang out with, if she just got used to people. She had never been surrounded by people, so I can understand why she acts like she does. The fact she was abandoned didn't help. Right then, I promised that if it ever came down to it, I wouldn't make her go through the feeling of abandonment again. Her past was painful enough.


	7. I Meet the Barbie Dolls of Doom

Arthemia: I Meet the Barbie Dolls of Doom

You're probably thinking something along the lines of _you-have-such-a-horrible-temper!_ Or maybe _an-owl-calms-you-down?_ Well, what can I say? I'm a strange child. You know my past now, it has never been normal for me. I wasn't thrilled that I had told them. But, when the god of wine and madness wants you to do something – you do. When he stopped me from charging Percy (I will get back at him), I had looked right into his eyes. And what I saw wasn't pretty. I knew right then and there, that I'd better be careful. Or I'd find myself so crazy I'd become a mass murderer. Not comforting after last night.

I was relieved to get out of there. I didn't like it, I didn't like being unable to do what I wanted when I wanted. Getting out of there, had been good for me. Camp was . . . a different environment for me. Not only was everything organized and structured – the way I hated some things – but it was . . . to cramped. There were too many people milling about. There had to be about four hundred people now. It had been two years since The Last Olympian, and if it was guessed to be over one hundred one summer later. At that rate of accumulation, it should be about three or four hundred now.

I was walking in the general direction of the woods. Aria was flying next to me while I scanned the lay of the land. I could see a majority of Camp Half-Blood. Campers were doing their activities, and getting on with their lives. Aria cooed gently and did a loop, riding a sea breeze. The sea . . . something I had only ever read about, never seen or heard. Even from here, I could hear it rolling into the beach; I could smell the sharp salt air. If you're thinking that I shouldn't be able to tell that, I have naturally heightened senses.

But out of everything Camp had to offer, what I most wanted to explore was the woods. The trees were _huge_ and the area it covered was a large part of Camp. It was also stocked with monsters, perfect for target practice. Perfect for vanishing from people. The woods looked . . . beautiful, lush, full of life, shadows, and mysteries.

I was scooting around the edge of the cabins hoping to blend into the shadows. Unfortunately, it was busy, guess some cabins had free time. I was almost past them when I noticed something off to the west. That something happened to be the arena. Or more importantly, one particular section.

I should explain exactly _how_ the arena is. It's made of three parts. They didn't describe it entirely in the books. One is the wresting ring, built into the side of the main arena. The second is the main arena, it looks a little like the Roman Coliseum, with seats in the side and a large sand ring for practice. It also is the place where the hellhound is supposed to live . . . The last part is the archery range. It's nestled in a little valley, with a small hill behind the targets and a small hill behind the archers.

The whiz sound of arrows being launched caught my attention. I paused and looked at it out of the corner of my eye. _You're going to regret it . . ._ I thought. But I couldn't help it; I turned and walked to the top of the small hill behind the archers. From here, the targets were fairly small. I watched as the campers shooting pegged bull's eyes after bull's eyes. Apollo campers no doubt.

I suddenly was itching to shoot. Without thinking I pulled my bow over my shoulder and held it in my hand. I pulled an arrow from my quiver and knocked it. Raising my arm I pulled back. _Don't do it,_ I warned myself. _It will just get you noticed._ But of course, I can never resist a chance to shoot. I aimed, and half a second later I released.

The arrow flew swiftly, a shinning bolt through the air. It whizzed past the archers and thunked into the centre of the farthest target. Too easy. Every single camper at the range froze and looked over in my direction. They looked completely shocked, like they couldn't believe it. In response, I scowled and pulled another arrow from my quiver. Walking down the side of the hill, I launched a second arrow, watching it land perfectly in the second farthest target.

At the bottom of the hill, I stopped, glaring irritably at the campers. They were staring at me like I had dropped from space. They were probably surprised somebody besides them could do those shots. I noticed all the girl campers were standing away from me, while the boys were in the front. Like _I_ was the threat. I could be, but I probably shouldn't cause trouble at this time.

I glared for a minute longer, before rolling my eyes and walking up to the shooting line. I was strung out, so at the moment, I needed to relax. And to do that, I needed to shoot. Since I had an audience, and the fact I needed to focus my mind, I decided to do something that would require some real concentration. Not just shooting one arrow. So, I pulled five arrows out of my quiver and knocked them.

Drawing back, I carefully lined up. This shot had to be perfect. I took a deep breath, and another. This crowd staring at me silently was unnerving. Then – I released. The arrows flew swiftly, flying through the air to the targets. Each of the five arrows landed in the middle of five different targets. Their shafts disappearing halfway into the targets. I lowered my bow and was about to move onto the next group of targets (if they aren't going to use them, I will!) when the campers around me exploded into cheers.

I spun around on my heel and glared with narrowed eyes at them. The cheering died in their throats and they nervously backed up. Except one. I held my bow at my side, and kept my hand near where I kept my knife. A boy around seventeen or eighteen stepped forward, cautiously eyeing me warily. He had blonde hair, and bright blue eyes.

"What?" I growled. He looked nervous and surprised for a second. Good for him.

"Uh, nothing – just – great shooting!" he said. "What you did, shooting five arrows perfectly, that's fantastic! And the shots from the hill? That was just incredible! Only about half of us could possible do that."

"So?" I muttered annoyed. "It was not hard; I don't see what the big deal is." The boy frowned for a moment, the shook it off.

"Uh, you're new right?" I nodded curtly to him. "Well, I'm Will Solace, head -" I cut him off by whipping one end of my bow under his chin. He stepped back surprised.

"I know who you are," I hissed. "I've read the books for your information. Now if you'll excuse me, I have some sharp, pointy, and dangerous arrows to collect." I cast one more baleful glare at the Apollo campers before stomping off down the range to the targets. Pulling the arrows out of the targets, I returned them to my quiver. So much for calming down doing archery. I pulled my bow over my shoulder and stormed out of the archery range.

Maybe the woods would be better. It would be more peaceful, and I could be surrounded by nature. After all, the woods looked wonderful, absolutely wonderful. I fingered my bow string as Aria landed and my shoulder. She had been surveying Camp, probably figuring out where to go hunting during the night.

I was making way to the woods, when a nasily voice called out, "Animal accessories are _so_ last season! Wait – it's _not_ for a costume? You mean go you around with disgusting smelly animals _willingly?_ " I froze; who that was did not just make fun of me and Aria. I spun to the voice on my right seething. A group of about seven girls were sitting on some fancy benches that were there.

They were all wearing fancy, stylish (I guess . . .) clothes, and had on so much make-up that to me they looked like clowns. No, even clowns looked better. More like oversized Barbie dolls. They wore haughty expressions on their 'perfect' faces. A couple of them were adjusting their make-up in compacts or filing their nails. But a majority were looking at me like _ew-who's-the-loser?_ Obviously it was some Aphrodite girls. Guess the evilness of them has grown since Silena died.

" _Excuse me?_ " I hissed menacingly, my hands balled into tight fists and my posture ridged. Sadly, Aphrodite girls are too stupid to be scared.

"Oh my gods! It's a person!" one said in mock surprise. "It's not just a walking mass of fur and dirt! But ew! She looks like a caveman! And she has nasty animals!" My breath came in and out in short angry bursts. It's one thing to insult me, but it's another to insult animals.

"Listen you," I spat poisonously. "I suggest you shut up before it's lights out – permently!" For a moment, the girls were stunned into silence. Then a girl partly hidden cackled in amusement. She had long, shiny black hair and looked Asian. Her eyes swept up and down me criticizingly.

"Well! This one has quite a tongue on her, doesn't she?" she laughed. The other girls nodded, no longer looking afraid. "I can't say I don't blame her, looking like _that._ I mean, where did she get those clothes? Hobo's 'R' Us?"

"No, it's a little place called Your Ugly Closet," I shot back. For a minute, the girl was stunned.

"Did you just insult the Aphrodite cabin's clothes?" she said surprised.

"If the walking death trap fits," I growled, trying very hard to restrain myself from charging her. You're probably thinking _you do that anyways._ Now, charging an invincible guy is one thing, but charging a weak, unable to fight, idiotic Aphrodite girl – unfair advantage on my side. Honestly, this girl was so dumb, and I wanted badly to beat that ugly laugh off her face.

"Ooh, this one doesn't like us girls," she sneered. "The poor dear must be jealous because we're _so_ much better looking." The other girls nodded and muttered their agreement. This wasn't normal; nobody can have everyone agree with them so easily.

"Why would I be jealous of plastic dolls?" I hissed. The girl blinked before giving an obnoxious laugh.

"Because, Miss Bugs-And-Animals, who would ever want to look like a nasty, primitive bumpkin?" she said. The other girls, once again, murmured their agreement. I shook with anger, it finally rising to my breaking point.

"I'm surprised you even know such a word," I snarled. Then I stuck. Bolting forward, I pushed the other girls aside and made straight for the Asian. Growling in my throat, I grabbed a fistful of her hair and pulled hard. Aria fluttered off my shoulder and landed on the girl's head, talons scratching her. She pecked and pulled out the girl's hair. I kept pulling down on my fistful of hair and twisted, dragging her head around.

"AH!" she screamed. "Get off me you little twerp!" I hissed at her in response and tugged harder. She screamed more, and so did the other girls. That only fuelled my anger. She didn't even give me the pleasure of fighting, she just screamed as I did what I wanted. Finally that high-pitched screaming got a result.

I heard footsteps, only one pair. But I still heard them, coming up to us. "ARTHEMIA." a voiced yelled. A familiar voice. Aw crud. A hand reached out and seized my wrist, pulling it away from the girl's hair. I took a step back before twisting it free. Annabeth was standing there looking very disappointed. She folded her arms and raised her eyebrows. Aria was still pecking and pulling at the girl's head. Smart girl.

"What?" I said, trying to act innocent. But of course, I growled it instead. Annabeth scowled at me.

"Can you not be left alone for five minutes?" she said tiredly. She looked over at the girl. "Call her off, now." I frowned and folded my arms. " _Arthemia._ " I exhaled sharply through my nose and looked her in the eyes. I held her frightening grey eyes as she nodded once. I noticed how even she – Annabeth Chase – had a hard time staring into my eyes.

"Fine," I growled. I let out a light whistle and clicked my tongue. Aria stopped and sat there on the girl's head. She looked at me with intelligent, large brown eyes. I gave a tiny, reluctant nod. She hooted and fluttered over to my shoulder.

"You – you dirty, disgusting, gross, little twerp!" the girl screeched, her hair now in a tangled mess and light scratches on her forehead. "How da -"

"Drew," Annabeth cut her off. "Shut up, she's new." The girl, Drew, raised a narrow eyebrow at me, in returned I scowled at glared at her. Her eyes darting everywhere but my face.

"Really?" she snorted. "Well, clearly she doesn't believe in first impressions. If she goes walking around looking like _that._ " I growled deep in my throat and my hands balled into so tight of fists, my chipped nails were digging deep into my palms. Drew looked slightly scared and took a small step back.

"Arthemia, that's enough, calm down," Annabeth said. "They do this with everyone."

"Oh, it's not just that," I hissed. "Normally I would ignore the scathing remarks about my appearance. But when they insult _Aria_ – that's when I pay attention to the plastic girls." Annabeth looked at me strangely for a second, then it dawned on her what I meant.

"Wait, you guys insult an _owl?_ One who did nothing to you?" Annabeth asked turning to them. They all mumbled something unintelligible. I'm not surprised. Annabeth looked pretty annoyed. Well, an owl is the sacred animal of Athena, and Annabeth is a daughter of Athena. So I wasn't too shocked when Annabeth cut them off by saying, "That is just disrespectful and rude."

"Can you blame us?" Drew asked. "I mean, look at that thing, it's not even clean – and don't they eat live mice or something?"

"That's because they're smarter then you and can catch it," I shot back to her. The Aphrodite girls looked at me – offended and grossed out. Annabeth smirked.

"I have to admit, that, was funny," she said looking at me, for the first time without confusion or annoyance. My harsh (and now semi-permanent) glare softened the tiniest bit. Then Annabeth looked like she was lost in thought for a second, then sighed, "Now this I hate to admit," she said. "But frankly, they have a point. You do kind of stick out." I narrowed my eyes and my glare was once again on.

"One, I do not care at all about what I the heck I look like. Two, where are you going with this?" I hissed suspiciously. I had a very bad feeling about this. At that moment, the Aphrodite girls (who apparently are very good at reading expressions), all giggled like the nutcases they are.

"Make-over," one said in a singsong voice. I felt a cold wave of fury wash over me.

" _WHAT?_ " I screeched. Annabeth gave me a weak smile and a shrug.

"It's not what you think," she said. I raised my eyebrows at her, still very mad and freaked out. "I just mean, you should probably bathe, and maybe get clothes that aren't half destroyed . . . the point is, you need to clean up a little. And don't freak out too much – I'm not leaving you to their mercy."

"No way Blondie," I growled. "You are mentally mad if you think I'd ever agree!" I was trying not to lose my temper again. But it was very hard. Annabeth looked at me amused for a second. Then she reached behind me and took off, racing to the cabins. I whirled around and glared after her. Then I saw what she was holding.

"GIVE THAT BACK!" I screamed at her. She stopped and turned in my direction. She shook her head and twirled the arrow in her fingers. I growled in my throat before baring my teeth and hissing. I sprinted after her, my hands balled. Aria flew next to me, but stayed out of it (Annabeth _is_ a daughter of Athena after all, an owl wouldn't attack her). For a moment, Annabeth looked panic, then she herself bolted. I poured on the speed, slowly catching up with her. She was fast, but so was I. After all speed had been essential in my life.

Nobody even batted an eyelash as I chased Annabeth. She wound around the cabins, me hot on her tail. Several times I nearly caught up to her, but she knew the place better than I did and always managed to avoid me. The longer I chased her, the angrier and calmer I became. If that makes sense. I grew angrier because, well, she had my arrow! And I have _never_ in my entire _life_ let anyone touch my bow and arrows. I grew calmer because . . . I just did, I've always loved to run, and after earlier today I needed the physical exertion.

Eventually, she stopped running in front of a cabin. A horrible cabin. It was painted floral pink and the windows were covered from the inside by lace curtains. I'm sure you can figure out which cabin it is now. The Aphrodite cabin. I skidded to a stop, first looking disgusted at the cabin, then glaring at Annabeth.

"That was surprisingly easy," she mused. "And kind of fun."

"Give. Me. Back. My. Arrow!" I growled.

"Fine," she shrugged. "I got you here, and also you can't argue _now_ that you need to clean up a little." I scowled and snatched my arrow back, returning it to my quiver. Sadly, Annabeth was smart enough to get me to do what she wanted. Annabeth herself looked slightly flushed and a little sweaty. Meaning I had to be the same or worse, the chaser is always more tired than the chasee.

"I hate you even more right now," I said sourly. Annabeth smirked at me.

"I figured that," she said. "But let's go in now; I think the girls may have beaten us back while you were chasing me."

"What else was I supposed to do without causing you fatal harm?" I grumbled. Annabeth opened her mouth to say something, but then thought better of it. She shook her head sadly and opened the door. As she did, Aria flew down and rested in the edge of the roof. I understood what she meant loud and clear, _I-am-not-going-in-there._ I nodded and followed Annabeth into the putrid cabin.

The first thing that hit me was the smell. The entire cabin reeked of designer perfumes and mixed together into a disgusting scent. I wrinkled my nose and my eyes watered. Annabeth didn't look too thrilled at the smell either. The smell made me feel sick, my stomach swirled and I knew what was coming. I pushed my arms against my stomach in a futile attempt. "Annabeth . . ." I groaned. She looked at me and understood a second before anyone else what was up. She grabbed the nearest basket (that happened to be pastel pink) and shoved it in front of me. Not a moment too soon. My stomach heaved and threw up into the basket. The Aphrodite girls screamed and moved away from me. While all I could do was crouch there puking my guts out.

After a couple minutes my stomach was completely emptied out. I let out a small moan and straightened up. The puke in the basket was green and liquidy. Maybe that's because mostly I've eaten plants in the past two years . . . Annabeth knelt down next to me and I refused to look at her. Puking wasn't exactly pleasant, and I still wasn't feeling so good.

"You okay now?" she asked.

"After a whole life of never puking, walking into a stinky cabin sets it off," I muttered. "Just my luck." Annabeth gave a small laugh, and helped me up. She reached into a pocket, and pulled out a tiny (and I do mean tiny) arousal can. I hadn't seen one of those in years. She shook the can and I saw it was labelled Febreeze. She sprayed a cloud of it around us and sent jets of it into the cabin. Once she was done, the air was noticeably easier to breathe, and smelt light and fresh.

"I wish I had done that sooner," Annabeth said. I looked at her annoyed thinking _no kidding!_ Ignoring me, she steered me towards the bathroom and ushered me in. I stopped at the rather bizarre sight – it too was pink, and weird products covered anything. I turned to Annabeth, thinking maybe she was a little crazy. "Yeah, I know, but you'll live. Now." She held out her hand and looked at me expectantly. I knew immediately what she wanted.

"No way," I said, my hands grabbing my bow string and quiver strap. "I am not handing them over." Annabeth sighed tiredly.

"They'll just get ruined by the moisture," she said. I frowned, hating the fact she was right. Glaring, and growling, I hesitantly pulled my bow and quiver over my head and placed them just outside the bathroom door. I placed my side bag over top of them protectively. "The knife too." I growled slightly louder and pulled my knife out of the spot I hid it. I set it on the ground and folded my arms, extremely mad.

"I feel like I should point out I don't have any other clothes and I will be putting the same ones on after," I said sullenly. Annabeth gave me an amused smirk. I swear, soon I going to slap it right off her face.

"I had a feeling you'd say that," she said. "And I know where I can get new clothes for you." I scowled, should have guessed it.

"I really do hate you," I hissed. "I really do. But if you have to go to the pains of looking, at least get me better shoes. Because frankly, I've worn these ones out."

"Done," Annabeth said. "Now go de-sweat and de-pukify yourself." I shot one last poisonous look at her before turning into the bathroom.

"Just so you know, pukify, is not a word," I murmured irritably. I slammed the door shut, and got ready to take the loathsome shower.

* * *

So the shower wasn't as bad as I thought it would be. It wasn't the greatest, but it was quite so bad. It was the first time since running away I had had access to hot water. Before, any bathing I had done was me taking a dip in a shallow river. So taking an actual shower, very, very different. For about half of it, I was just getting used to the temperature. But then it started to feel kind of relaxing.

At some point, I heard the door opened, then close a minute later. So I assumed it was Annabeth swapping clothes or something. Great, my life really stinks.

You know what was the worst pain of all? Washing my hair. I mean, I like my hair, it long and free, and I just enjoy it. The reason it was a pain to wash, was because it's knee-long and things were constantly falling out of it. Things like leaves, twigs, dirt (now mud), and the odd bug or two. Now, I know you're thinking _gross!-She-had-bugs-in-her-hair!_ But personally, I didn't care; unless it was a large spider . . . then I was a little grossed out. But, in the end, I did manage to clean my tangled mass of strange hair.

Once out, I quickly dried myself and look at the clothes left for me. There was a pair of ripped black jeans. They were loose on the legs, so I didn't feel uncomfortable. The rips in the jeans were just on the knees, and the threads crossing it were kind of fun to pluck at (do not comment on that). The shirt was a simple black tee-shirt. It was silky smooth to the touch, and was big enough so it was very loose around my body. The only bad thing, the neckline was large enough to show my shoulder slightly. And I knew what was visible on them would cause a riot.

Flinging the door open, I walked into the horribly pink cabin and glared at everyone in there. They looked at me for a minute, and I stood there moodily, waiting for the reaction. Then . . .

"What the Hades happened to you?" Annabeth yelped coming over to me worriedly. I rolled my eyes, rather annoyed. "What happened to you?" she actually looked kind of concerned. She looked at my shoulders and arms aghast. I personally didn't care; the wounds were old news to me. My arms were covered in long, light scratches. But my left arm also had several puncture wounds going up and down it. My shoulders had a few scratches, but mostly were covered in old and new puncture wounds. Some were old scars, some were newer marks. But I long ago stopped registering any pain.

"It's nothing," I grumbled. Annabeth raised her eyebrows at me. I pushed past her and retrieved my bow and quiver, slipping them back over my head. I picked up my knife, and pondered where to keep it. I couldn't place it where I normally would; these new clothes were a little too loose for that. Unfortunally, at that moment, Annabeth snatched it out of my hand and held it up high. I spun and faced her snarling.

"Arthemia, answer the question. How did you get those wounds?" she said sternly.

"I told you, it's nothing. Now give me back my knife!" I hissed, reaching for it. Sadly, although I may be a bit tall for my age, I'm only twelve. I still have a lot of growing to do. Annabeth on the other hand, it a fully grown eighteen year old, and she's tall. I jumped for my knife, but she merely stretched her arm and I fell short by several inches.

"It's not _nothing,_ you're a beat up. How did it happen?" she said sternly. "And you'll get it back _after_ you tell me." I growled and gave up trying to get it back. She just had too much of a height advantage. I balled my hands in to fist and glared her in the eyes.

"You're smart Blondie, you tell me," I hissed. "You should know all about your mother's sacred animal." Annabeth blinked in surprised and began to slowly lower her arm.

"You mean Aria is the reason?" she asked quietly.

"Owls have sharp talons," I muttered. Annabeth lowered her arm a little bit more, and I snatched it back. I hid it away, and scowled at her.

"You are crazy, why would you do that?" she muttered. "When we're done here, I am going to get you an arm guard or something. You can't go around with Aria if she injures you." I scowled; I personally didn't care about an arm guard. I'd probably torch it as soon as I got it. And she also said 'when we're done here' which didn't exactly comfort me.

"I can if I want to," I spat. "And what with when we're done? I thought we were done in the putrid place." A couple of the Aphrodite girls gasped, but I think that even they had figured out I was not someone to mess with.

"Not quite."

The next . . . however long it was, was pure painstaking _torture._ They Aphrodite girls had their own idea of what to do. And if Annabeth hadn't been there, the place probably would have gone up in flames or worse. Basically, they wanted to give me a 'make over', I wanted to stab their guts out. So things were going horribly, and went even further downhill. Why did they go downhill? Simple reason: I hate haircuts.

Everyone insisted I needed it. I mean yes, it's knee-long and hasn't been cut in two years, but I didn't think I needed it. So, after a couple fights and a near trip to the infirmary (that is a long story), they managed to force me into a chair. Despite my many, many protests, they got ready to cut my hair.

"You are not cutting my hair!" I screamed, trying to get up, only to be pushed back by a group of five girls (are you surprised by that? I'm not). Annabeth sighed tiredly and the girl holding the scissors waved them in the air.

"Arthemia, be reasonable," Annabeth said. "It's all split at the end. If you don't get it cut, one day it will fall out." I scowled and glared at her.

"I hate you," I mumbled. "I really hate the fact you're right. Fine, do it. I will get even for this though, and keep it as long as you possibly can."

So they got to work cutting my hair. I grumbled and complained, but didn't do any physical harm. It got cut so it fell to my hips. At least it was still long. It was actually a little scary when they finished. See, they cut off so much, that the part of my hair that was curly was completely gone. But as soon as they finished, the styles of my hair shifted. So once again, the top third was straight, the middle third was wavy, and the bottom third was curly. So yes, my hair is a little more strange then I originally thought.

When I was done, they Aphrodite girls were proud of their 'handy work'.

"Ooh! Artie looks so cute!" one squealed.

"Do not call me that!" I hissed lunging at her. She stumbled backwards and Annabeth grabbed me back.

"Tone it down," she said. "Now, let's go, but first, you might want shoes." I frowned, completely forgetting I had been barefoot. Annabeth pulled out a pair of . . . interesting looking shoes. They were all black and looked like they were made of squares or something. She handed them to me and I pulled them on. I marvelled at how they felt. It was like wearing a sock, and when I wiggled my toes tiny squares did indeed move. "They're called freerunners. Made especially for this organization called the Bare Foot Runners. I managed to dig up a pair. Figured you be more comfortable in them."

I gave a curt nod. "Thanks." I grabbed my things and walked out of the cabin of doom. Annabeth following behind me. I was definitely more than happy to leave the cabin and doomsday Barbie dolls behind.


	8. Chiron Shares Some Bad News

Percy: Chiron Shares Some Bad News

Knowing the Camp schedule, like I do, I stopped practicing in the arena about thirty minutes before dinner started. Capping Riptide, my enchanted Celestial bronze sword, I put it back into my pocket. Mrs. O'Leary, who had been happily chewing on a dummy, perked up the moment my sword was away. So, unfortunally for me, I never got a chance to cool down because I got charged by a wall of fur.

Turning around to go to the cooler (full of ice water) I was immediately thrown on to my back by my dog running into me. I groaned and a giant wet tongue was licking my face. I have got to have the biggest and most affectionate dog in the world. And because of that, I am really glad I'm invincible, because she's grown a little over the years. So she's no longer the size of a hummer, more like the size of a large, heavily arm tank. She can crush anyone who is not invincible.

"Oof," I grumbled. "Heel! Down girl! Lemme up!" After a couple minutes of telling/coaxing I manage to get her off of me. I sat up, and noticed my hair was sticking up in odd tuffs. Mrs. O'Leary was still licking me, causing all my hair on one side to stick straight up. I sighed and scratched her nose, then threw an armored dummy and yelled "Get the Greek!" she chased after it and I took the chance to duck out of the arena.

Walking towards the dinning pavilion, I ran into the Apollo cabin as they left the archery range to go wash up. Over the past couple years the Apollo cabin had boomed. With the intake of all the campers, several had gone to Apollo. So, with all of them talking, it was a pretty loud ruckus. I managed to catch a few words of their very loud conversations. The words I did manage to hear all had something to do with 'girl' 'shooting' 'fantastic' and I think 'scary'. Which probably meant it could only mean . . .

"Hey Will," I said walking up to Will Solace, head of the Apollo cabin. "What are all you guys so excited about?" Will looked up at me and smiled, even though it looked like I had interrupted his thought process.

"Hey Percy," he said. "The campers are just excited because this girl randomly showed up while we were shooting. She was absolutely incredible, probably one of the greatest I've ever seen. She shot about seven arrows, then left. But before she did, she kind of mouthed us off. It was a bit frightening. But still, I really haven't seen a better archer. Is she new? She could be one of our siblings."

"You don't say," I replied. "Um, yeah, I think she's new . . . I gotta go." I waved bye to Will and speed off towards the pavilion. New girl? Amazing archer? Mouthing off? Frightening? This had Arthemia written all over it. Gods, she hates being around people, and yet she goes and makes a show of herself. That girl really should be kept on a leash.

I hadn't gone more than thirty steps when I ran into some more old 'friends'. Travis and Conner Stoll, the most annoying sons of Hermes, were up to their usual shenanigans. And when I say ran into, I mean I literally ran into them. We crashed into each other, and I figured that they were running from their latest prankee. Gods, I pity the poor person. The brothers fell to the ground and instinctively kept my hand near my back pocket – just in case.

"Hey Perce," they said in unison. That's usually a good sign they're guilty.

I sighed and looked at them. "What did you guys do this time?" They looked at each other slyly. "On second thought, I don't want to know."

"Smart choice," Conner said.

"Hang on," Travis said. "I thought you, Grover, and Annabeth were out searching for a new demigod?" Wow, news sure travels fast around here. Then again . . . everyone does tend to notice us (by that I mean me and Annabeth) since we published the books.

"Yeah, we just got back this afternoon," I told them. "Did the camper happen to stop by the Hermes cabin?" Both of them looked at me strangely.

"No . . ." they mumbled.

"That's just like her," I mumbled. "Thanks anyways, I'll see you guys at dinner." I waved good-bye to them. They waved back and I was about to move on when . . .

"Percy!" I turned towards the cabins and saw Annabeth walking towards us. She came over to us and gave a slightly worried smile. I leaned over and kissed her cheek lightly.

"What's up?" I asked.

"Well . . ." she started.

"Who is _that?_ " Conner asked interrupting her. The Stoll brothers were looking back the way Annabeth had come. Both of them had wide eyes and their mouths were open slightly. I looked in the same direction, and I'm ashamed to admit it, but my eyes widen slightly too. Arthemia was walking up to us scowling, her bow and quiver were still over her back and her bag was hanging on her side. She was holding her left hand up and Aria was on her wrist asleep. And Arthemia looked _very_ different.

Her hair, which had been down to her knees, was cut shorter, so it only reached her hips. Before, it had looked greasy and matted, as well as full of things. Now, it was shiny and neat, the three different colours were even more easily seen. She also got a new outfit, and she looked a heck of a lot better in it. When I first saw her, I thought she had been wearing rags. Now she was wearing ripped black jeans, and a black tee shirt.

I was looking at her in surprise for a minute (seriously, she looked completely different. It was just so shocking; I thought she'd never change), then I noticed something. Her shoulders and entire left arm were covered in long scratches and puncture wounds. Some looked like scars, others looked new. I was surprised she didn't find them painful.

"What happened to you?" I asked her. Next to me Annabeth shook her head furiously.

Arthemia, who before at been scowling and glaring at the ground, snapped her head up to me. I swallowed nervously and looked away. "Exactly what are you referring to? The torture I went through or what apparently is a big deal to you people?" I glanced at her confused, this girl would be great at riddles, she speaks in them.

"I'm referring to the wounds all over you," I said careful. Arthemia's scowled deepened and she looked at me like I was an idiot.

"Are you people blind? Do you not have logic? Can you not see an owl?" she spat.

"Um . . . right, sorry," I muttered to her. Somewhat ignoring her death glare I turned to the Stoll brothers. "Anyways, guys, this is the new camper. Her name's Arthemia. Suggestion – don't cross her, don't annoy her, don't steal from her." The brother's immediately complained. But they shut up when an arrow went in between their heads and landed in the ground behind them.

"Shut up already," Arthemia growled. "You're really annoying when you do that." Looking back at her, I realized she hadn't shot that arrow. Just plucked it from her quiver and thrown it free hand. That is very scary accuracy. I swallowed nervously and glanced at the Stoll brother's like _'now you see what I mean'_.

Annabeth picked up the arrow and handed it back to Arthemia. "Stop doing that," she said. Arthemia gave a half shrug and scowled. It was actually kind of creepy how she managed to do everything while having a sleeping owl on her wrist. "So, why don't we go and get you . . . settled in the Hermes cabin." Once Annabeth said that, Arthemia's eyebrows shot up like Annabeth was mad.

"I am truly convinced you are stark-raving mad," she spat.

"Can you just be quiet," I grumbled. "It's the camp's rule; you have to stay in cabin eleven until you're claimed. And I know you knew that. So quit complaining and just come on." Arthemia raised her head and glared at me fiercely. Me, being the tough guy I am, made sure to not look in her eyes directly.

"Why should I listen to you? All you've done is, oh, completely ruin my life," she growled.

"Arthemia, please," Annabeth said. Arthemia growled at her, and Annabeth merely raised her hand near her quiver.

"This place sickens me," she grumbled before stomping off. I breathed a sigh of relief when I saw she was storming off _towards_ the Hermes cabin. Conner and Travis looked at each other, then followed her. Hm, maybe they have a death wish – or they're too curious for their own good. Knowing the Stoll brother's, it'll be a little bit of both.

I turned to Annabeth, "Why is it that everyone listens to _you_ but hates me? Why is _she_ listening to you?" Annabeth smirked, her grey eyes twinkling, and chuckled softly.

"That's for me to know and you to find out," she said before walking off after the others.

"Oh come on!" I called. Sighing I followed them all to cabin eleven.

I have to admit, it was very amusing to hear what was happening inside the cabin when I joined Annabeth outside of it. Annabeth was standing there with her arms crossed, a rather annoyed expression on her face. I stood there for a minute, hearing at first nothing, then a loud bang. And this was all before I heard the threat.

"If either one of you so much as goes within a foot of my things," a familiarly annoying bell-like voice threatened. "My arrows – your throats – do the math. Providing you have the brains in those thick-headed noggins of yours to do so." For a second it was silent. Me and Annabeth looked at each other. Gods, finding that girl was a mistake.

The old cabin's worn door was opening as a satyr trotted up to us. I didn't recognize him, but then again, I don't know most of the satyrs. They aren't at camp to long. He stopped in front of us, slightly out of breath.

"Chiron said, you, Annabeth, and some girl who I believe he called Arthemia . . . to go and see him in the Big House," he said.

"'K, thanks," I told him nodding. He nodded once in reply and left. Behind me, a door slammed shut, and Arthemia walked up to us. She still had her bow and quiver over her back, but had lost the side bag. Her owl was _still_ asleep on her wrist. I mean, I know owls are nocturnal, but you'd think with all the movement it'd wake up. Arthemia put her free hand on her hip and looked up at us, rather annoyed looking. I hoped it was just 'cause she had just left the Stoll brothers.

"Why does Chiron want to talk to us in the Big House?" she asked, trying very hard to not sound like she was mad beyond reason. It didn't work. There goes my hope . . .

"Do you have supersonic hearing or something?" I asked absentmindedly. Well, you can't blame me – she practically hears everything! She rolled her eyes, like I was an idiot. She probably did think that.

"No, you just have extremely dull senses," she sneered, a hint of sarcasm in her voice. I opened my mouth to respond, but saw Annabeth shaking her head out of the corner of my eye. I immediately closed my mouth, figuring I should listen to my girlfriend. Also, if I didn't, I probably get stabbed all over till I died.

"Oh, just come with us," I grumbled. Quickly I grabbed her upper arm, holding on tightly, so she couldn't twist out. Or pull herself out (she looks pretty strong), or do anything. At first she did struggle, but after gripping her harder with both hands and nearly making her fall, she reluctantly allowed herself to be dragged by me.

So, after dragging an angry girl partway across camp and creating two deep tracks in the camp ground, we finally got to the Big House. Chiron was standing on the porch in full centaur form. He looked like he was lost in thought, and when he saw us he actually looked surprised. We stopped before him, Arthemia still struggling against me; Aria still asleep. By this point, I was ready to bet the owl had some sort of sleeping condition.

"Glad to see you finally showed," Chiron said.

"We would have gotten here sooner but," I jerked my head at Arthemia. "we were held up." A second later a felt a hard kick on my butt. It didn't really hurt, but there was enough force to make me stumble forward. In that second, Arthemia wrenched herself free from me.

Behind me she snorted in disgust, "And you're the literal pain in the _iaiöaros._ " I whirled around to stare at her. Chiron's jaw opened slightly, and Annabeth clamped her hand over Arthemia's mouth. Arthemia looked pretty mad at all this, like she hadn't done anything wrong.

"Arthemia," Chiron said sternly. "We do not use that type of language here, and you are much too young to be using it." In response, Arthemia looked at him coldly, and also slightly confused. Since she couldn't actually make a comeback, I suddenly realized something. She had used _Greek._ I mean, yes she had Greek written on a shelf in her room – but I figured she used a translator. I didn't think she actually knew it.

"Hold up," I said, pointing at Arthemia. "You know Greek?" Even with a hand clamped over her mouth, she managed to nod and roll her eyes. At that, Annabeth actually looked surprised. Slowly she took her hand from Arthemia's mouth and took a step back. For a second Arthemia shot her a poisonous glare, before putting her hand on her hip and looking at us bored and annoyed.

"I can write in ancient and modern Greek and speak in modern. I tried learning ancient but I couldn't find a very reliable source. There aren't many records of the language and they're all jumbled together," she said. My jaw dropped. I can barely master ancient – much less know modern at the same time!

"Remarkable," Chiron murmured before clearing his throat. "We will discuss your surprising ability later. Right now I need to tell you all something. Please, come inside." Chiron walked into the Big House, and we all followed him inside.

He led us past sitting rooms and past his own rooms. We found ourselves in a large office. The walls were plated with bronze sheets, and so was everything else. There was a desk on the left-hand side with a large flat screen monitor that was running through a screensaver. A couple small filling cabinets were beneath the desk, and a taller one was against the far wall. Chiron's wheelchair was placed next to the desk. The other side of the office had a couple of comfortable chairs and a small coffee table. Different photographs and paintings were lined up on the wall. They were all of different people. Some very old, others newer. I also noticed that the newest one was of me and Annabeth.

Chiron began backing himself into his wheelchair. Me and Annabeth took the chairs while Arthemia stood and sulked behind us, leaning against the wall. As we waited for Chiron to finish getting into his chair, I couldn't help but watch the screensaver as it went through different images. Most were the same as the ones on the walls. But there were some of different places and monuments. There were also a few pictures with the party ponies . . . I'm surprised he had any photos of them.

Once Chiron was settled, he shook the computer's mouse and the screensaver vanished showing several windows open – all with tons of writing on them. He clicked on one and it expanded to fill the whole screen. It was of a forest and a large tree. It looked vaguely familiar. But what I was thinking of had to be wrong. Behind me I heard movement.

"I believe you know what this is," Chiron said, looking past me and Annabeth. I turned around to look at Arthemia. She had a look of shock and hatred on her face.

"Where. Did. You. Get. That. Photo?" she growled carefully, stressing each word. "It's impossible to of gained that. Nobody's been allowed anywhere near there for fifty years. And that photo's too recent to have been taken before then." I blinked at her in surprise, but she was completely ignoring us. Her eyes trained so fiercely on the screen I thought she was going to burn a hole through it.

"The gods have their ways. This photo was taken roughly thirteen years ago," Chiron said. "They took it in case it was what they thought it was. But it was never proven, so they forgot about it. But I knew you would recognize it. After all, it exists in the Larchorn forest. And you knowing what it was confirmed my suspicions. The gods have been searching for this tree ever since they came to America."

There was a long silence. I looked between Chiron, Arthemia, and the photo. I didn't see what was so special about the giant tree. But Chiron looked worried and Arthemia's face was hard and serious. Annabeth looked about as confused as I was. That's a problem.

"Um, why were the gods searching for this place?" I asked eventually. Chiron looked at all of us for a second.

"Do any of you know what the Yggdrasil is?" he asked.

"No."

"Yes."

"Yes."

Of course, Chiron would use a term that everybody but me knew.

"What's a Yig-dra-sill?" I asked, trying very hard to pronounce the word correctly.

"The Yggdrasil is from Norse mythology," Arthemia said immediately, looking the tiniest bit bored. "It's known as the world tree. It was said to span nine different worlds, and it was large, the biggest tree ever. It was a seed when the Norse gods weren't even in power. It was as old as the planet is grew on. Apparently the roots were unbreakable and were used to hold demons. I could go on but you people probably don't care about it." The entire office was silent as we all stared at her.

"Where did you learn that?" Annabeth asked her critically. Arthemia shrugged her shoulders, like it wasn't odd at all.

"Some textbook, there were a hundred at least in the attic," she muttered.

Chiron cleared his throat. "We will have to talk about that later," he said. "But yes, Percy that is what the Yggdrasil is. It was planted during the third age. It is very ancient, well I should say was. Unfortunally, it was destroyed during a war. But not before it created a single new seed. When the gods began their reign, the planted it in a vast forest. When the tree was still young, they trapped a horrible foe in its roots. But unfortunally, after that, the gods lost track of it. They have been searching for it for a very long time. But they never found it. That is, until now I believe."

Behind us, Arthemia took a step forward, her body quivering slightly. Her eyes were smoulders, her left one going red and her right one slowly turning black. She looked hard at Chiron, trying hard to stay calm, but I saw she was about to snap.

"Are you suggesting," she said very quietly. "That the tree I was living in for two years, comes straight of the pages of mythology, it's a younger-not-quite-the-same Yggdrasil, and there's a horrible, dangerous monster beneath it's roots. And _that's_ why it was always considered cursed? Because if you are, then I swear, I will not stay in the place a moment longer, for I cannot stand here and listen to you talk about my lifelong home like it's something that needs to be destroyed." Chiron looked up at her. His three-thousand year old eyes meeting her odd coloured ones.

"Arthemia," he said gently. "I am most certainly not suggesting that we destroy it in anyway. If anything it should be preserved. I am telling you three this because you need to know. All of you were there, and that could provide problems in the future. I do not know. The only reason I called you here was to make sure this was indeed the correct tree. The gods have been searching for it, looking very hard to find it. The fact you lived there is a very strange twist of fate. But other than that, you should not be concerned." Arthemia growled deep in her throat, a horribly terrifying sound.

"It does concern me," she spat. "If it wasn't for me – that forest would have been swept clean years ago. I've been protecting that entire forest. That stupid story making it even easier. And now you're telling me it's real, and that I should forget about it. Well too bad you old horse-bag! I'm not just going to forget about it. I know that you're only saying that because you're trying to keep me safe – and that's the oldest trick in the book. And I don't need protection, I don't need this. So start telling me what the problem is, or I won't ever been seen in this camp again!"

Chiron straightened up in his chair, looking madder than I've ever seen him. "That is _enough!_ " he said forcefully. "You are letting your temper get the better of you, and you need to stop. I have told you all I can. Anything else I know, I have sworn not to. So you will compose yourself, or I will have to go to other means that I would prefer not to. You will stop this nonsense _now._ "

For a second, it was eerily silent. Then Arthemia made a cracking, hissing sound. She was streaming – literally! There were sparks flickering on her finger tips, a tongue of flame alighting every few seconds. She let out an ugly, high-pitched scream of anger and bolted forward. She was too fast for me to grab, and she pushed herself out of the office. The metal on the door melting slightly where she touched. The marred door swung shut as the horn for dinner sounded (a harpy blows it).

I was frozen to my seat in shock. Arthemia had completely defied Chiron, and her hands had been making fire. I didn't even think that was possible. As far as I knew, no demigod could control fire. _To storm or fire the world must fall._ The Great Prophecy's line rang through my head.

"Fire," I murmured in a daze. "She had fire. You don't-"

"Go, both of you. Head down to the pavilion," Chiron told us in clipped tones. After what I had just seen, I wasn't about to argue at all. Annabeth and I scurried out of the Big House, heading down towards the dining pavilion. We were a little late it seemed, so once I was sure we were alone, I decided to talk to Annabeth about what I thought.

"Do you think Arthemia could be one of the seven in the Great Prophecy?" I asked her. "She was creating fire with her bare hands. Couldn't it be her in it?" Annabeth was quiet for a moment, her stormy grey eyes lost in thought.

"It might be," she said. "The only other time I've ever heard of a demigod using fire was in 1666. The Great Fire of London. But that was a child of Hephaestus, and it's her mother who's immortal. But it certainly seems like it, doesn't it?" I nodded in agreement.

"It does. After all, there are no coincidences," I said. "There's only one thing. What goddess has any connection to fire?" Next to me, Annabeth shrugged.

"Not sure, it's probably a god that came into being later on. I only really know the older ones," she paused and looked at me slyly. "I bet Arthemia would know." I looked at her somewhat horrified.

"No way Owl-head!" I said. "I am not going to ask her for a goddess related to fire. One, I don't want to go into the dragon's maw; two, she's mad; and three, I am going to try very hard to never have to come across her again." Annabeth looked at me disappointed and annoyed.

"Percy, I can't believe you of all people are saying that," she said. "You should be trying to help her, not ignore her. I mean, yes, she's different, but we all are. You should at least give her a chance." I sighed, the dining pavilion barely a minute away.

"I'll make you a deal," I said. "You help her get her temper a little more under control, and I promise I'll help her in any way I can, 'K?" Annabeth looked at me sceptically, but by now we had reached the dining pavilion. Before she could reply, I kissed her on the cheek and headed off to the Poseidon table.

Dinner was, low key. Thankfully. Chiron didn't make any announcements aside from the usual. Literally nothing happened. Well, I didn't see Hestia in the main brazier, but that wasn't a big deal. The highlight was the weirdness happening at the Hermes table.

See, for some reason, the Stoll brother's pull a joke on all the new campers at their first meal. So, since Arthemia has an owl, Conner decided to dress up like an owl and eat his meal face first. Now Arthemia had been ignoring them with Aria half asleep on the table. But when Conner started doing the joke she stood up, and amused smirk on her face. Then she picked up his plate said, "Why don't I help the possessed owl eat?" and pushed it into his face. Then she sat back down, and Conner had food and juices dripping down his face.

The entire camp burst into laughter at that, and Arthemia looking smugly at Conner made it even funnier. Even Mr. D looked amused, and that's hard to do. Plus, all the campers the brother's had pranked were cheering for her since the Stoll brother's finally got what they deserved.

After dinner was the camp fire. And that was the same as usual. We sang the typical songs, like _This Land is Minos' Land_ and all the rest. This night, because of dinner, the flames were about thirty feet tall and bright, sunshine yellow. And personally, I think it was one of the better camp fires in my time at camp.

Later that night, while I was laying my bunk trying to fall asleep; I turned over what had happened in the past twenty-four hours. A lot had happened, a demigod had been found, a strange secret about the gods and some monster had been revealed. And this day had to have been the weirdest I've ever had. But then I remembered Rachel was coming to camp either tomorrow or the day after. She would give us some answer.

Yup, Chiron revealing strange things definitely made this a weird – and tiring – day at Camp Half-Blood.


	9. Of Oracles and Challenges

Arthemia: Of Oracles and Challenges

Want my opinion on what Chiron told Percy, Annabeth, and I? It's a load of _malakίes._ I know that forest better than anyone else, and I know it's not actually cursed. And I know for a fact that most certainly there is not some sort of horrible demon trapped in The Tree's roots. Also if The Tree is the next generation of the Yggdrasil, it would be much bigger. Despite the fact it is very young (I know it doesn't seem young, being three millennia, but for what it's supposed to be, that's young) it should be much bigger. The original spanned nine worlds!

Basically, yesterday made me the most mad I've ever been in my life. Which is saying something. Though I must admit, I did enjoy pushing that plate of food into Conner Stoll's face. Those brother's were so annoying, and someone definitely needed to put them in their place. I'm glad it was me.

The rest of the night was a washout. I really wanted to bolt, but I was trying to be respectful. After my anger, once again, getting the better of me, well . . . I was trying not to mess up any more. There was the god of madness to watch out for.

Then there was cabin eleven. Once the sun went down, Aria had gone out hunting, and I was completely alone. I didn't really like the cabin, it smelt, it was loud, it was crowded, and I couldn't stand it. I was lying on my bunk for, at least an hour, tossing and turning. I wasn't used to an actual bed, and certainly not one with a mattress like the one I was on. Eventually I got fed up, I was tired, strung out, and I really wanted to sleep. But I couldn't sleep here.

Rising out of the bunk, I grabbed my quiver and bow and silently pulled them over my head. Creeping out, being sure not to wake anyone, I pushed open the worn door and stepped into the night. Breathing in the cool, moist air, I quickly walked away from the cabins. There were so many now, instead of forming the old U the formed a Greek Omega, Ω. Turning northwards, I started heading for the woods.

Pausing near the end of the cabins, I looked back at them. My eyes rested on the glowing silver cabin for Artemis, and I was curious as to what the cabin actually looked like. It was one of the greater mysteries of the Books, but then again. I was here, so I guess it would become a mystery no more. Ah well, moving on.

Exiting the area of the cabins, I broke into a run, feeling the salty air rustle by me. The moon was a thin sliver, and the light it cast was faint and watery. My feet soon left well trimmed grass and it started growing taller. I slowed to a walk and stared up at the mammoth trees growing before me. Inwardly I smiled, a new forest to explore, a brand new challenge.

I was about to enter the woods when I heard movement in the air behind me. There was a loud squawk or two. "Lucky snack for lucky harpies!" a high, chicken-like voice squeaked. Mentally I let out a string of cuss words. Of course I would forget about the harpies enforcing curfew! Well, if my death was going to be cause by harpies, then I'd at least go down fighting.

Turning around, I pulled my bow over my shoulder and readied it. Knocking a slender arrow, I drew back and looked through the night for my targets. It took me a few seconds to make out the details in the harpy silhouettes. And gods, they were _ugly._ Imagine a short, wrinkly hag; give her short, stubby legs, and feet with three toes that had talons. Their arms were bent funny, and dull feathery wings sprouted from their backs, and attached to their arms at the elbows and wrists. Their faces were very wrinkly with crooked, hooked noses. They were dressed in these raggedy maid type outfits.

They were coming towards me pretty fast. Without hesitation, I released my arrow and flew swiftly into the chest of the lead harpy. Instead of embedding itself into its chest or turning the harpy to dust, it flew straight through and a harpy behind the lead one caught it. The arrow was tossed back to me and I caught it in surprise. Crud. Stuffing my arrow back into my quiver I turned and flew. My arrows weren't effective, so I doubt my knife would be.

I ran as fast as I could, the forest to my left passing me in a blur. I roughly knew I was heading in a northerly direction. I just hope I lost the harpies before I ran out of ground to run on. Strangely the harpies didn't catch up to me, but they didn't fall behind either. Then I noticed a large, dark, glittery mass ahead of me. Beneath my feet, the grass changed to gravelly dirt, then into soft, powdery sand.

I skid to a stop directly in front of the surf, the sand slightly damp and clingy. Looks like I was out of options. Turning back around to face the oncoming harpies, I glanced down my bow in my hand. In a pinch it could work as a staff . . . but I wouldn't use my bow for that. The group of five harpies closed in on me, licking their lips hungrily. They surround me, and I took up a fighting stance.

One of the harpies got excited and charged me. Without thinking I ducked under the slicing talons and pulled out my knife. Thrusting upwards, the blade, of course, passed clean through. The harpy tumbled over me, but the hole was quickly closed up and I was once again surrounded.

"Hold it!" I said as forcefully as I could manage. "I'll make you a deal!" The idea had just popped into my head. But at the moment, I would do anything I could to save my skin.

"Better be fast demigod," one harpy said. "We're hungry, and this better be filling. Bad demigod shouldn't be out of bed." The harpies fluttered back slightly. Cautiously I lowered my arms, but kept my body tense in case I'd need to fight.

I took a deep breath and composed myself. "This is the deal. You will let me stay out at night whenever I want, no matter what. In exchange, I will do something for all of you." The harpies looked at me curiously. I looked at each of them in return, holding them with my eyes.

"What will you do, demigod?" the harpy asked. "We're very hungry, hurry up." In a flash I knew what to offer them.

"If you let me have free rein at night, then I will hunt for you," I promised. "I will hunt animals for you to eat. Any animal that lives nearby. I'll hunt them for you and give you a meal of them weekly. Do we have a deal?" The harpies looked at me suspiciously.

"Snakes?" one asked. "Squirrels? Foxes? Birds? Rabbits?" I nodded.

"No owls and no garden snakes," I said. I wouldn't hunt owls for obvious reasons, and I've just always liked garden snakes. "Those are my only conditions. Deal?" The harpies were silent for a minute. I waited patiently for their verdict. Then they all nodded.

"Deal," they said. "Enjoy your night." With a flurry of leathery and feathered wings, they rose up into the night and flew off. As I watched them vanish I gave a single nod. Putting my knife away and placing my bow back over my head. I was even more tired now. I really needed to find a place to sleep.

Glancing at the sea I shuddered. I had never been near something so large and powerful . . . and I had never learned how to swim. Quickly moving away from the sea, I headed to the woods. I didn't want to go too far in – yet. After all, I still didn't get anything of Celestial bronze or Stygian iron. So until I got a chance to swipe some arrows tipped with that, I'd have to be careful not to go into monster infested areas.

Walking in about twenty feet, I came across this maple tree. Just an ordinary maple, but I still was surprised that it was this far south. The tree was old and twisted. All the thick branches grew out of one central spot, creating a sort of basket. Walking over to it, I was shocked that no dryad appeared to tell me to go away. Maybe this tree was asleep (if you don't get what I mean, then think of it as unconscious).

I found impossible holds in the bark and climbed up. Gripping two branches, I swung my legs up into the 'basket'. Pulling my quiver and bow over my head I set them next to me. For a minute I shuffled around, getting into a comfortable position. Lying on my back, my hair pushed aside, I looked up through the tree. The stars above glittered brightly, and I couldn't help but notice there weren't that many. It was sad, there were even less stars here then there were at my forest. I longed to see the familiar skies again. Sighing, I closed my eyes and drifted off to sleep.

The next morning I awoke rather late. The sun was already shinning and I heard voices being carried on the wind meaning the camp had woken. Yawning I sat up and stretched, blocking the sunlight's direct path to my eyes with my hand. I was in a relatively good mood, for a minute, I felt like nothing had changed. Then I remembered, this wasn't The Tree. This was a maple tree in Camp Half-Blood, a place that I wasn't the fondest of.

My good mood slowly evaporating, I pulled my bow and quiver over my head. Moving to get down, I saw Aria sitting on one of the branches half asleep. Quickly dropping to the ground, I whistled lightly. Aria spiralled down and perched on my shoulder. Me barely noticing her talons at all. I rubbed her head fondly and she cooed in reply.

Turning southwards, I walked away from the sea and the edge of the forest, and began heading back towards the populated parts of camp. As I walked, I noticed the voices getting louder. Keeping in the shadows of the trees, I stopped at the edge closest to the cabins. I peered out, and saw quite a few people gather around. I frowned confused, why would so many people be gathered so early in the morning? Walking across the camp ground, I stood on the edge of the group. In the middle were all-so-important people. Percy Jackson, Annabeth Chase and the Stoll brothers.

I crossed my arms and frowned harder. "What is going on? You people are so loud." I asked moodily. The group immediately quieted down and turned to face me. A majority of them faces I had never seen. Percy, Annabeth, and the brothers pushed their way through the people, looking pretty upset.

"Where were you?" Percy demanded, jabbing his finger at me. I scowled at him.

"What do you care?" I snapped.

"I care when a camper goes missing," he said irritated. I raised an eyebrow at him; missing?

"You really must be an _iliθios,_ " I sneered. "You couldn't have looked very hard." Percy frowned at me.

"Will you stop calling me things in Greek?" he said. "And just answer the question. Where were you? The entire camp woke up and you were nowhere to be found. Now where were you?" I sighed and rolled my eyes at him. He was just so clueless sometimes. And I'm pretty sure that I'm not the only one who thinks that.

"Do you even have a brain?" I asked him. "I mean really, I've lived in a forest for two years and I left my bag behind. Where do you think I was? Spain?" They all looked at me confused. Especially the Stoll Brothers. Percy and Annabeth looked flabbergasted.

"You were sleeping in a _tree?_ " I nodded. "And you weren't attacked by monsters?" I shook my head. "How did you get past the harpies?" I smirked mischievously.

"Do you really want to know?"

"One second thought don't tell me," he muttered taking a step back.

"Wise decision, otherwise I'd have to kill you," with that bluff said I turned around and walked swiftly off. It was too crowded at the cabins. I needed to find a more private place. The only question, was where? Stables? Nah, I wasn't a fan of horses. Forge? Nope, I have no interest in forming metal. Though designing a weapon would be cool . . . Climbing Wall? No, it would be too weird to be seen sitting at the top of it. Strawberry Fields? Too many annoying satyrs.

The only place I could think of that I'd be alone in was the woods. But to do that I'd need either a new knife or to re-tip some of my arrows. Pausing in my walk, I thought things over. If I wasn't going to stay here, replacing my knife wouldn't be the best thing. If it was a mythic metal then I doubt it would work to skin animals. That made changing arrow tips the better bet. Seeing as monsters disintegrated at a single touch (in most cases) then it would be easiest and safest just to shoot them. With a slight nod I decided, arrows it would be.

Turning in a complete circle, I glanced around what I could see of camp. Now where would I be able to get arrows? Apollo cabin? I would, but after yesterday . . . I didn't feel comfortable approaching them. That left another option: the forge/armoury. The Hephaestus cabin worked there, didn't they? I'm sure if I asked they could change the tips. Settling my eyes on what looked like the forge, I hastily began walking over to it.

Now, if you're thinking I'm going to act like my usual self. You're only partly right. Yes scathing remarks, witty retorts, and a short fuse are a part of my nature. But I don't like how I feel afterwards. I actually feel a little guilty. Just don't let anyone else know that. And I really only act like the way I do to people I've read about and kind of disliked. Like Percy (I'm not sure why but I both like and dislike him) and the Apollo cabin. They're too arrogant for my tastes. But I have nothing against the Hephaestus cabin. Heck, I always liked them. Even though they weren't mentioned much, they all seemed to have nice, caring, friendly personalities. Yup, I would definitely be my closest thing to nice to them.

Coming up to the forage, I halted in front of the door and looked at it. The metal door was closed, and the entire building looked like it was an industrial plant. There were smoke stacks rising from the roof, billowing out thick light grey smoke. I couldn't see any windows, but I figured there had to be some. For aeration purposes. A Greek Êta, Σ, was inscribed using bronze on the door. There was a dial to spin, like the kind on a submarine.

Twisting the dial clockwise there was a hiss of air. The door began to open, two halves moving outward sideways; interlocking teeth disconnecting with each other. The door opened completely revealing the red-orange colouring of the forge's interior. I stepped inside and the door hissed shut behind me. No turning back now. Well, they certainly were private, that was something I could relate to. Blinking multiply times to adjust my eyes, I stood completely frozen by the sight before me.

The far side of the large forge had four kilns lined up. Large, blackened anvils were in front of three of them. A few smaller kilns and anvils were scattered on the sides. There was a large metal worktable covered in different, curling blueprints. Wires, rivets, screws, nails, and small tools like screwdrivers were lying everywhere. In between the kilns on the far side were caches of different kinds of metal (mostly what looked like Celestial bronze) and taller tools. On the side walls were bulletin boards with layers of sketches, designs, and notes. There was the constant roar of fire, banging of hammers, and whirring sounds. And quite a few busy people.

There were about seven people. All of them were males except for one girl. I felt sorry for her. The campers ranged from ages eighteen to maybe a year younger than me. They were all big and burly, with squinty faces from looking into fires. I noticed their hands were huge and calloused. The campers were either running around, or standing before kilns hammering away at weapons.

Once I got over my initial shock of what the forge was actually like, I quickly scanned the Hephaestus children. One was older than the rest, eighteen or maybe even nineteen. He was standing to the side and telling something to younger campers. Something about the way he looked clicked, and though I couldn't quite place it, I figured he was Jake Mason, who I knew was the head of the Hephaestus cabin. Well, the head of the cabin would be a good place to start.

Walking over to the campers, I stopped a few feet away. Crossing my arms I stood there waiting to be noticed. I _was_ trying to be polite. On my shoulder Aria shifted uncomfortably. I rubbed her head soothingly, knowing she wasn't fond of the extreme heat. Hopefully we'd be out of here soon – for her sake not mine. I was actually perfectly fine.

After a minute the younger campers moved away from the older guy. He nodded at me and I walked over to him. He had somewhat burnt brown hair and his skin looked a little flushed from the heat.

"Hey, my name's Jake. Head of Hephaestus cabin," he said. "What do you need help with?" He held out his hand and after a moment's hesitation I shook it.

"Thought so," I murmured under my breath to myself. "Hi, I'm Arthemia. I was hoping someone could change the tips on some of my arrows."

"You're that new camper right?" he asked me. I nodded once in response. "'K, was just double checking. So, re-tipping arrows huh? Hm, talk to David; sitting on the far side. He's better with smaller, more detailed stuff. He'll be the best at it. He's the one at the table on the other side, you'll know him instantly. He'll be tinkering and he's about your age I'm guessing."

"Thanks," I said. Jake turned back to a sheet and paper and I began manoeuvring my way to the other side of the forge. I got a few strange glances from a couple of campers, but for the most part I was ignored.

Walking up to a metal table pushed against the wall, I stopped and watched the boy half sitting in the shadows at work. He did look like he was twelve. The table he sat at was littered in wires, computer chips, tiny flat head nails, miniature clamps, and basically any electronic part you could think of. There were a couple old blueprints on the table next to the boy. He was fiddling around with a complex circuit board in his hand. The board looked old and beat up, and the boy seemed to have trouble figuring the placement of a wire.

The boy himself was completely oblivious to everything around him. He had messy and kind of shaggy dark brown hair. His brown eyes were trained hard on the circuit board, and had an intelligent look to them. Unlike his siblings, he wasn't muscular – he actually looked ordinary when it came to muscle size. His fingers and hands weren't too big and rough, more fine and slender, made for extremely delicate work.

Putting my hands on my hips I cleared my throat. The boy glanced up at me curiously. "I'm taking it you're David," I said casually. The boy, David, nodded.

"Yeah, that's me, hang on a second," he muttered. Once again he looked intently at his circuit board. My curiosity getting the better of me, I couldn't help but lean over slightly and look at what he was trying to do. It was an interesting piece of work. The edge of the disk had different Greek letters written on it. Like magic had been used in the creation of the disk. I watched him fiddled with a wire, and after a moment or two I recognized the framework style and knew where to put the wire.

"Blue wire goes to the green connector to complete the cycle," I said. David looked at me strangely but tried it anyways. Twisting the wire in, there was a faint spark and he smiled. He sat up straight and put the circuit board on the table next to him.

"Thanks," he said. "I was having some trouble. How'd you know that?" He glanced at my eyes before looking away from them. Of course, nobody can stand my eyes. My face felt strange, and I hoped it was just from the heat. He just had to ask me how, didn't he?

"Uh, I'd rather not say," I replied. "I'm Arthemia." David looked at me funny when I refused to share how I knew, but shrugged it off. I just couldn't dredge up the memories in front of someone. See, my father was actually a successful businessman. He had a company that created ecofriendly computer hardware. Lame and at the same time kind of cool, I know. When I was younger he tried getting me into designing hardware. I never really enjoyed it, despite his efforts. But in his efforts, I memorized several of the basic framework styles and one or two or the more advance. But moving on, computer things aren't important.

"The new girl?" I nodded. "Loved what you did to Conner. The Stoll brother's did the same thing to me when I arrived. So what can I do for you?"

"I'm glad I got to do it," I said. "Anyways, Jake said to talk to you about changing the tips on some of my arrows." David nodded, a little bit surprised.

"Okay, sure. Can I see one of your arrows?" For an instant, I scowled. But determined to not get off on the wrong foot, I wiped it off my face, leaving it blank. Reluctantly I reached behind me and pulled out a single arrow. I fingered it gently for a second before hesitantly holding it out to David. He looked at my face for a moment, before reaching out to take the arrow. Sucking in a breath and holding it, I watched as David lightly took it from my hand. It took a lot of willpower not to reach out and snatch it back.

My arrows and my bow are my most precious possessions. The only thing I could possibly care more about is Aria, but she's not a possession and is free to go, so I don't count that. My bow and arrows were a gift, and a last reminder of the time when things between me and my father were good. My Father gave them to me as a birthday gift, when I was seven years old. Now, I know that's ridiculously young, but my Father thought it was okay. I had always been fascinated by the bow and arrow, and had enrolled in a few private classes. I still remember how ecstatic I was when I received them. Although my Father never said where he got them, at the time I hadn't cared. Ever since then, I had been inseparable from them. And I still was. They were the only thing I had from my childhood that was good. Everything else was either gone or I had gained on my own.

David held my arrow carefully, turning it over, inspecting it in different light. He was very thorough, despite the fact I had no idea why he needed to be, it was nice that some boys in the world can have a brain (aside from Athena boys). After a minute, my willpower about to snap, David shook his head and held my arrow out to me. I immediately snatched it back, _then_ gave him a questioning look.

"I can't," he sighed miserably. "You'll have to go somewhere else." I frowned at him.

"What do you mean you can't?" I asked him. "Don't you just unscrew the tip; make a mould, then use that to make the new tips? Or am I suddenly mistaken?" David gave me a small smile before turning serious again.

"Normally yes," he admitted. "But you don't have normal arrows. Have you ever lost a tip, or had to re-screw the tip in after shooting it?"

I blinked in surprise. "Well . . . no. But what does that have to do with anything?"

"I thought so. It's because your arrows don't have the regular, changeable tips. Instead the tip is part of the insert. That then runs the entire length of the arrow. That insert is fused to the outside just below the fletching. It doesn't come out. So I can't help you, sorry." Irritated, I put my arrow back in my quiver. I folded my arms, scowling slightly.

"Just my luck," I grumbled. " _Now_ what am I supposed to do?" David shrugged and picked up his circuit board.

"I don't know; the Apollo cabin?" he suggested. For a minute, rage roared through my mind. As if I would ever go to the self-centred Apollo cabin! As I stood, there, very mad and ticked off, the forge suddenly grew hotter. The orange-red light intensified making everything look eerie. On my shoulder, Aria let out a light sound and swayed slightly. My anger fizzled to nothing as I was concerned for Aria. The forge immediately cooled down. For a minute the forge was quiet except for the fires, then the sound started again.

Shaking off what just happened I cleared my throat. "Good suggestion," I muttered. David nodded to me and focused once again on the circuit board. I started to turn around, looking at David out of the corner of my eye. I noticed how he seemed to be stumped. "You know," I said suddenly. "If you ever want help with that circuit board, you can ask me. Only if you want to." David looked up at me, but my back was already to him and I was walking towards the forge door.

Clicking a button next to the door, it rushed open with a hiss of air. Stepping out of the forge into the so much cooler air, I was tempted to make a bolt for it. I did not want to go anywhere near Apollo campers. Especially after the show I made yesterday. If only I had listened to my inner voice, then I wouldn't be so conflicted. Aria's talons moved lightly on my shoulder, her wings spreading as she stretched. I knew how she felt. I had felt very out of place in the forge.

Sighing through my nose, I started walking back to the cabins. Despite my personal feelings, I needed different arrows. I couldn't really hang out in the woods if I couldn't kill the monsters stocked there. Which I really wanted to do, and I mean _really_ wanted to. I wanted to see a monster first hand, to have a challenge of something that wasn't your average beast. I was itching to run into the woods, feeling free once again, and fighting whatever monster I came across. But to do that, I had to ask the Apollo campers to help me get Celestial bronze arrows.

Time to face the inevitable.

I broke into a run, still quite away from the cabins. It felt good, my feet thundering on the ground, the wind hissing past my ears, my hair flying back. As I ran, I had time to think on what had happened only moments before I had let the forge. When the spark of anger had appeared in me, it had grown suddenly hot. As soon as that bubble of anger burst, the fires returned to normal. Had I been the cause of that? I mean, yes if I snap my fingers I can will a spark to appear. But that's all I've ever been able to do. Nothing more. So that couldn't have been me . . . right? It defied all logic; yet at the same time was simple logic.

I shook my head furiously as I ran. Forty-eight hours ago life had been so _simple._ Now I was running through a camp made for half-human people. I myself was only half-human. And I couldn't even go into true nature without having to worry about my hide! My life had changed completely, and it would never be the same again. From now on I was stuck in a world I didn't like, without any way of going back. Now my life was no longer simple.

Tears sprang to the corner of my eyes in longing for the life I had lost. Using the kneel of my palm I rubbed my eyes clear and sped up my pace. Then suddenly I was back at the cabins. I slowed down to a walk and looked around. Most of the campers were away at their activities. For a second I wondered what I was supposed to be doing . . . but then I realized it'd probably be boring and that getting a weapon undoubtedly had a higher priority. There were only a few campers left, most of them from Aphrodite.

I walked up to the Apollo cabin, figuring it was the right one since it was it was a bright, blinding gold. And there was a huge number seven tacked on the door. I paused right in front of the door, listening to make sure there were actually people inside – didn't want to waste my time or look like a fool. I heard faint voices and musical sounds drifting from the cabin. I guess it was soundproof, but the sound was leaking out from under the door and around the windows. The typical weak points.

I took a deep breath and knocked loudly on the door. For a few seconds nothing happened, then the door was pulled open by a girl no older then myself. She looked at me confused for a second, before she recognized me. Her face broke into a huge grin.

"Hey Will!" she yelled into the cabin. "It's that new girl – the archer!" Mentally I gave myself a face palm. Did she have to yell that into the cabin that was cheering me on yesterday? Apparently so. As soon as she yelled that everyone in the cabin froze for a moment and stared at the door. I glared around the girl, discouraging them to look at me. A boy, Will, walked up behind the girl and she got out of his way.

"Hi," he said with a bright smile. "Uh, come on in." Doing my best not to scowl, I stepped inside the cabin and folded my arms. Will closed the door and I got a chance to see what the Apollo cabin was really like. It was messy, the bunks pushed up against the walls and chairs and stools bizarrely placed around the room. There were two different work tables at the back. The table on the left had wood, strings, and fletchings littered across it – a place for making archery equipment. The other had wood, strings, screws, and other things I didn't know. It had a half finished guitar sitting on top. Clearly it was for making instruments.

The walls were covered in different things. One wall had magnificent bows, gilded arrows, and metals from competitions. The other wall had lyres, guitars, and flutes hanging up on it. A large floor harp was next to that wall, as well as several music stands. Stacks of sheet music were everywhere, and sheets with sprawling writing could be seen in the strangest places. I was ready to bet it was either poetry or little half-prophecies. Broken and new guitar picks were on the floor and bunks. This was not my kind of place, at all.

I couldn't help but look with disdain at the place, causing Will to look at me funny. "So," he said. "What can I do for you?"

I sighed annoyed through my nose, "I need different arrows. And unfortunally the tips can't be changed. So can you help me out with that?" Will nodded once, and I noticed that the room was quiet. I quickly glared at the room, and the campers went back to what they were doing. Which involved quite a bit of noise, but I didn't mind at the time.

"Let me guess, not Celestial bronze," Will said. I nodded sullenly, because it was true. "Thought so, come on; let's see what we've got. There are a bunch of arrows here, and we can modify them if we have to." I gave a half shrug, since I wasn't very happy with having to do this. He led me to the back left table, underneath it were quivers (really, more like a cardboard box with holes in the top – you can buy arrow packs in them) full of arrows. Each box had a label showing what length the shaft was.

"35," I said, answering his unasked question of the arrow length. He stared at me.

"Seriously? Um, how long have you had those arrows?" he asked shocked.

"A while," I said amused. "And no, when I first got them I was not able to draw back fully." Will nodded and bent down to the boxes. I should tell you that the average arrow length is 32-34, shorter is used for young children and longer can be used for archers with a long draw. I don't know why, but my Father (curse him) got longer than normal arrows. I don't think he even knew that they were longer when he got them. Strangely I don't remember being them so long when I was younger . . . but that must just be faulty memory.

Will finally found the right box and pulled it out, placing it on the table.

"Material?"

"Carbon."

"Weight?"

"320 grains, tip included."

"Tip weight?"

"80 grains."

"Straightness?"

".004."

"Spine size?"

"4000, don't ask." I only said that since it is rather surprising that an archer as young as me has that stiff an arrow. But I do, heck, I'm not even sure why. Ask a god of archery if you want to know.

"Fletching?"

"Feather, waterproof; right helical; four inch." Will gave me an odd look, then rummaged through the box for the right arrows. He just kept looking, and looking, and looking. Very quickly I lost patience and started pacing. I knew my arrows weren't the usual, average arrows, but I didn't think they were like this! Despite the many, diverse arrows in the box, it took him . . . oh half an hour. Sighing with relief, Will pulled out four arrows and set them on the table.

"Okay, so these are the closest we have to your arrows. The only different might be the tip length, or the straightness," Will told me. "Figure out which one you like the best, we can modify it and then do the same to others." I nodded to him and pulled out one of my arrows to compare to.

After going through different comparison tests, I had one more. Holding my arrow and one of the other arrow's in the palm of my hand, Aria fluttered down and perched in the middle. Now, I didn't train her to do this. She just started when I had done this test before when I though one of my arrows had been faulty (it hadn't). Ever since then, she had just done it. This was a test of the shaft strength/resistance. It was very important since it determines how the arrow will fly.

Using her as weight, I saw how much each arrow sagged compared to mine. My arrow barely sagged, as did two of the others. Eventually, after tossing the two arrows from hand to hand to see how they balanced, I chose one. The only difference was that the tip was a little wider then I was used to, but I knew that was an easy fix. I returned my arrow to my quiver and gave my choice to Will.

"Narrow the tip," I said.

"Okay, so how many?" I shrugged, unsure.

"Fifteen? You can never be too careful. Besides, it only takes one hit to kill," I muttered. Will raised his eyebrows and quickly gave instructions to one of his younger siblings. The camper went off to do . . . whatever needed to be done. Will turned back to me, a devious look in his eye. Crud, he had something planned, something I wouldn't like. I scowled and looked at him harshly in the eyes.

"You certainly are confident, aren't you?" he said.

"I'm confident in my known ability," I hissed. "Not in false ability I imagine, but I'm not sure many people can relate." Will frowned, clearly caught off guard.

"Oh, so you know your ability and the rest of us imagine it?" he scoffed. "Then you'd better prove it, if you have the talent."

"Bring it Sunshine-Head; I'll knock you off your high horse!" I snarled. I saw Will had a look of triumph on his face. I really just walked into that one didn't I? I really couldn't resist a challenge. That seemed to be a weak point for me.

"Glad you're up to it," Will said. "Tonight, after curfew. Meet me at the woods for a competition of true skill. Then will see who the better archer is. You on?" I almost laughed in cold amusement. As if night would make a different to my precision. Carnivorous animals had sometimes attacked me in the night, hoping for an easy meal. So what had I done? Simple, shoot them. It had been a matter of survival, plus the pellets made great blankets.

"I'll be there, just hope you're courageous enough to face me," I spat. "Now I'll be going away from the cabin full of badly played instruments." Okay, that was a big, fat lie. The Apollo campers really were talented with instruments. I just blurted it out – I really should learn to shut my mouth sometimes. Will's gaze turn cold.

"Oh I'll be there," he promised. "And I'll bring you your arrows, so you can defend yourself in a monster attack. Just make sure you show." I nodded once and waved my hand to let him know I heard. Then I stormed out of the cabin. Leaving a very stunned group of campers in my wake.

I was basically storming my way towards nothing when I heard a conch horn. Only then did I realize I had completely skipped breakfast. I had skipped meals so often in the past two years that I really didn't notice it anymore. It wasn't until it was signalled to the entire camp that I was even aware of food. Thinking about that fact, my stomach growled loudly. Clutching my stomach I figured I might as well go to lunch.

Sighing, still slightly in a bad mood, I started walking to the dining pavilion. The stream of campers heading there as well was annoying to walk in. Everywhere I stepped someone was in my way. And weaving through people is a thousand times harder then weaving through trees. But eventually we all made it to the dining pavilion.

I plopped moodily on to the end of one of the benches. Aria hopped off my left shoulder and perched on the edge of the table; giving my shoulder a break from bearing her weight. Carrying a barn owl around for the entire morning does get tiring. As I sat there drumming my fingers on the picnic table the rest of the Hermes cabin filled in; looking at me surprised. The Stoll brothers, who were strangely sitting across from me, kept glancing at each other then at me.

"What?" I snapped eventually, getting annoyed at their constant glancing.

"Oh nothing . . ." Travis started.

"We just didn't think you were coming," Conner filled in. "You skipped breakfast and were missing . . ."

"So we just kind of assumed it," Travis finished. I raised an eyebrow at them.

"Seriously? You thought that?" I scoffed. "Weirdo's."

"What?" Conner said offended. "I think it made sense since we couldn't find you!"

"Yeah, where were you?" Travis asked.

"Asleep," was all I said before going back to ignoring them. I figured a half-truth would be okay. Because at the time of breakfast I _had_ been asleep. I just didn't say exactly _where_ I had been sleeping. I figured I could torture them with the mystery a little more before revealing that I was more comfortable in trees. Beside, being sons of Hermes it probably wouldn't be to long until they figured it out themselves. Who knew what they were capable of.

Eventually we got served, scraped part of it into the fire, and ate. Afterwards, all of us dispersed to do our afternoon activities. I was trailing about ten feet behind the Hermes cabin, waiting to see if their activity was worth doing (if it was anything with survival skills I could probably skip it). I hadn't gone more than thirty feet when there was a hard tug on my arm. I had been so engrossed with trying to listen I hadn't even noticed someone approaching me.

I whirled around, my left hand going for my knife, when I saw who it was. Determined stormy grey eyes met mine. I let my hands drop to my side – in a show of peace – but glowered and scowled at Annabeth. In response she just rolled her eyes and started walking – me being dragged behind her.

"I don't care what you say," she said. "You're coming to see Rachel _now._ " If she had wanted me to come, she probably shouldn't have said that. As soon as she mentioned Rachel I knew she meant Rachel Elizabeth Dare – and I didn't want to be going to the Oracle! That usually means problems, and I didn't want to be part of a world-threatening problem.

I dug my heels into the ground and attempted to pull my arm away, unfortunally she had an excellent grip. "No way, Blondie! I am not going to see the Oracle!" Sadly, she didn't stop walking. She just helped me created another set of rutted tracks.

"I don't care Arthemia, and if you keep struggling, I will get Percy over here to help." At that I stopped, I really did not want to go near that Fish Brain. "And before you ask," Annabeth added. "I'm only getting you because Rachel saw something with you and wants to talk. Otherwise I would not be doing."

"Likewise Blondie," I muttered. But I followed Annabeth obediently, or as obediently as I could. The whole time I was giving her a loathing look. But in the end was the ultimate result, I was at Rachel's place without causing a huge scene. Guess I'm learning – a little. Barely.

Annabeth pushed aside the gauzy purple curtains concealing that caves entrance (so they did go through with Apollo's plan). We walked inside, and I stopped to look at the place. Before entering, I had had a rough idea of what the place might look like. But I still was not prepared for what I actually saw.

The front was sort of bare, just a small side table and a big armchair. Painted canvases, old paint brushes, paint cans, and dirtied pallets were scattered on the floor all over the cave. Off to the back left-hand corner was a simple bed – little more than a mattress on a metal bed frame. The right side had storage for all kinds of art supplies, shelves, containers, and sinks. A large, old-fashioned purple couch was placed near the back facing the front. The back wall had a low bookshelf with a few dozen books, most of them either fantasy, mythology, or art related. Above it was an extremely large bulletin board, countless drawing, sketches, and written lines posted on it. I noticed eerily that one seemed to have an uncanny resemble to _moi._ Or, at least it looked like due to the pose.

Two people were sitting on the couch. The girl was on the left had vibrant, frizzy red hair. Her eyes were a bright, energetic green. She was half curled up, a pad of paper in her lap, a pen moving furiously across it. She was biting her lip, and her eyebrows were furrowed in concentration. It was none other than Rachel Elizabeth Dare; Camp Half-Blood's redheaded Oracle. The other person on the couch was the one person I dreaded coming near the most: Perseus Jackson, the Fish Breath (he actually did smell like dead fish).

Percy looked up at us, his features turning hard when his eyes landed on me. I looked at him irritated before choosing to ignore him. I wouldn't even acknowledge he was there. As the idiot boy's eyes saw Annabeth, he's entire looked changed. A smile came over his face and he beckoned for her. Annabeth walked past me and joined Rachel and Percy on the couch. I walked in further a few steps, then stopped and crossed my arms over my chest.

We all held that position for a few minutes, waiting for Rachel to finish whatever she was doing. I assumed a physic drawing. She worked on tirelessly for minutes, I had zoned out complete, so I was kind of startled when the pencil was abruptly dropped on the floor with a clatter. I blinked a couple times and looked at Rachel. She was blowing and brushing dust of the paper as she straightened up.

Placing the pad on the couch beside her, Rachel stood up and walked over to me. She was smiling sunnily at me and held out her hand for me to shake. I was surprised she was being so . . . forward, nice. I would have thought Percy and Annabeth had told her about me. And I'm sure what they would have would not have been pleasant things.

"Hi Arthemia, it's nice to meet you," she said. "As I'm sure you figured out, I'm Rachel Elizabeth Dare, camp's Oracle." I was so surprised that at first all I could do was shake her hand. Nice to meet me? Was she serious? I had a sinking feeling that she was.

"Um, uh, same," I mumbled. "Err, how did you find out my name?" Rachel just smiled and shrugged.

"Prenotion," she said. "I had a vision a couple days ago. I just got to camp, but I knew I had to find you. Thankfully Percy and Annabeth knew you." I nodded.

"Oh, uh, that makes sense," I said. To me, it really didn't. I had no idea what being a physic was like, so things like 'prenotion' and visions really weren't things I understood.

For a minute, it was silent. Rachel was just standing there looking at me strangely. Her green eyes were so bright it was a little uncomfortable. I stood there fidgeting, as she started walking around me. Like I was some kind of specimen she was examining. She circled me a couple times before speaking, and when she did it sounded like she was far away or in a dream.

"Two gifts," she murmured. "Two gifts, but where is the third?" I was staring at Rachel like she was a nut job as she murmured it. I had absolutely no idea what she was talking about.

"What?" I asked confused. "What gifts? What are you talking about? And why exactly did you need to find me?" Rachel opened her mouth to respond, when she suddenly doubled over. I blinked and stepped back surprise. I shouldn't have been, I knew that was what happened whenever she spoke a prophecy. I just didn't expect it to happen to _me,_ or to happen from asking a question as simple at that! As soon as Rachel doubled over, Annabeth and Percy rushed to her side. Percy grabbed a stool I hadn't seen before. Together they eased Rachel on to the stool. A second later she straightened up, her eyes glowing bright, neon green. She opened her mouth, and thick coils of green smoke billowed out, flowing around the room giving it an eerie look.

She began to speak, and when she did her voice sounded tripled, like three Rachel's were talking at once.

" _First of Seven all in all_

_Will be the key to the Dark One's fall_

_Three who swore to never change_

_Give life to one who seems mange_

_To the west the forest grows_

_A heart that beats deep below_

_Gift of fire, strong and true_

_Amulet to be born anew"_

As suddenly as it had started, the green mist flowed back through Rachel's mouth into her. The green glow from her eyes faded and her body slumped with unconsciousness. Annabeth caught her before her body hit the ground and with Percy's help they layed her out on the couch. I was still standing there frozen in shock. I had not, never in my wildest dreams, my craziest nightmares, imagined that something like what just happened would happen to me. Annabeth was looking worried and a little annoyed. Percy was each looking at Rachel in mild concern or giving me the evil eye. He's actually not the best at giving evil eyes, but it's still a little more intimidating then an average person's. I looked defiantly at him out of the corner of my eyes.

I stood there, half wanting to run off, half wanting to stay and see what would happen. It took a couple minutes for Rachel to wake from her stupor. When she did, she was blinking rapidly, her eyes normal again, and rubbing her temple like she had a headache. Well, having an ancient spirit talk through you had to effect in you in some way or another. She looked around confused for a minute before her eyes settled on me.

"I'm going to get Chiron," Annabeth said before running off out of the cave. That left me alone with the spooky-and-scaring-the- _skatά_ -out-of-me Oracle and the second most despised male in my life, Percy. The only person here who did not seem to be in a foul mood was Rachel. Instead she actually seemed . . . happy, ecstatic. As if randomly sprouting a prophecy for me was the best thing that could happen. I was starting to wonder if after a couple years of being the Oracle she took anything strange in good strides.

After a couple minutes, Chiron trotted into the cave, Annabeth entered several strides after him, her face red from running. Chiron looked at us expectantly for a moment. The rest of us were silent, not really sure what we were supposed to be doing.

"Well?" Chiron asked. "Could someone please explain to me what exactly happened? All I know is that there was a prophecy, care to explain?" I kept my mouth shut. Letting the older, more experienced ones take this one. Partly because I was still so confused on how it just suddenly _happened._

"Rachel wanted to talk to Arthemia," Percy said in a cold tone. "When she arrived, Rachel went up to greet her, they talked about something. Arthemia said something and the next thing we know Rachel's being possessed by the spirit of Delphi." I glared sharply at Percy. What a way to pin it all on me. Chiron raised his eyebrows and turned to me. I sighed in resigned defeat, knowing better then to argue with the three-thousand year old centaur.

"First of all, I would like to point out all I did was ask a simple, orthodox question and that I really did not mean for this to happen," I growled. "I don't even understand how it happened. Rachel was looking at me weird for a minute, then she started talking about gifts and that one was missing. I was just confused and asked her what the Hades she was talking about and why she wanted to see me and BAM! She's doubled over spewing green smoke. I am completely innocent of any wrong-doing here."

Chiron sighed and muttered something in Greek. It sounded suspiciously like 'why is she so quick to anger?'. But seeing as he used Ancient Greek and not Modern Greek, I could be wrong. But I had the feeling I wasn't incorrect. After his little muttering, Chiron looked at all of us, assuming no one had heard him. "I understand, now could you please tell me the prophecy. Exact wording if you can," he requested. I had seriously been hoping the Annabeth or Percy would take it upon themselves to recite it. But no, instead they both look expectantly at me.

I sighed in annoyance. "Sure thing," I mumbled before saying the prophecy in a clear voice. Once I did Chiron stood there thinking. As he did, something felt wrong to me. Saying the lines sparked something in my mind. I quickly repeated the prophecy in my head, pinpointing what felt out of place. Then I had it: _First of Seven all in all._ First of Seven . . . Seven . . . like a clap of cold thunder it hit me. Blind panic and fear closed in on my throat. It couldn't be right! No, no, no, I was just imagining things. I had to be.

"We must issue a quest," Chiron said eventually. Mentally I groaned, because I could already tell I was probably going to have to go. I just hoped if I was forced to, I would get to go alone. But only if I had to go.

"Percy and Annabeth need to join her," said a voice that I recognized as Rachel's. Gods, apparently the universe did not like me today. Because at this rate, absolutely nothing was going good in any way, shape, or form. I was starting to wish I had never woken up.

"Are you serious?" Percy asked incredulously. Glad I wasn't the only one opposed to the idea.

"Yes I am, Percy," Rachel replied. "You guys need to go with her, it's vital. I can tell."

"Just great," Percy mumbled in resignation.

"Well then, it appears that tomorrow you three will be -"

"Hold up!" I snapped, holding up my hands in the universal 'stop everything' position. "Can you all just stop talking like I'm not here? I haven't even _agreed_ to go! You can't just sign me up for things like this!"

"All right," Chiron said, maintaining self-control. "Do you accept this quest?"

"I . . ." I was about to refuse, when I saw the other's faces. They looked extremely exasperated and annoyed, like it was only typical of me to argue and refuse everything. Well, if that was what they thought of me, then no matter how close it was to the truth; I would prove them wrong. "Fine," I hissed at them.

"Good," Chiron said, clearly relieved. "Tomorrow you three will depart from camp at dawn to go on your quest. Don't be late. You will be excused from the rest of your activities to prepare." We all nodded mutely and Chiron left the Oracle's cave.

As soon as he did, Rachel shrugged it off and picked up her sketch pad and pencil again. Percy looked at me like I was some sort of monster that had gotten him into gods-know-what kind of trouble. Annabeth was looking at me slightly irritated, but mostly her gaze was calculating on me. I sneered at them before stomping out of the cave.

I stormed for about fifty yards before plopping down on a dead tree stump. What was I supposed to do now? I had just agreed to a darn quest because of my pride, and I did not want to go in the least. And I was supposed to be getting ready. But if it had anything to do with a forest, as I expected, then I wouldn't really need anything. When it came to forest survival, I was pretty good. Probably not Artemis and her Hunters good, but still pretty good considering I had basically been learning as I went along. So what was I supposed to do? Sit around and mope until the challenge against Will tonight? Because at that moment, I could not think of anything else.

I just sat there for a while, thoughts turning over and over in my head. I was entirely alone; Aria had woken up and seen something that she had chased after. So I got to wallow in self-misery alone. At least that's how it started. After several minutes, I heard a sharp crack – the unmistakable sound of something stepping on a twig. As soon as I heard that, I was able to detect light footsteps. On reflex, I pulled my bow over my shoulder and readied it, an arrow already knocked and my eyes already looking for the source of the sound. I saw the faint glimpse of movement through the thick undergrowth. Raising my bow I drew back, feeling my body slip into the comfortable position with ease.

Half a second later, the undergrowth parted and I took a deep breath. But before I could release my arrow . . .

"Hold your fire! I just want to talk!" It was the familiar voice of Annabeth Chase. Growling in my throat I lowered my bow. Annabeth stepped into view and I reluctantly pulled the arrow off my bow-string and returned it to my quiver. I still held my bow, just to keep something familiar and calming on hand. With a low hiss I sat back down hard on the tree stump.

"What do you want?" I snapped at her. Annabeth decided to answer my question with a question.

"Why aren't you getting ready for the quest?" She came over and sat beside me on the stump.

"I'm getting bronze arrows later on tonight," I growled, not giving away any hints as to the forbidden activity that would take place to night. "And aside from that, I have no need to get anything." Annabeth raised her eyebrows at me.

"So you have no need for food suddenly? Or money? Or anything?"

"I have a feeling money isn't going to be needed," I pointed out. "The prophecy mentions a forest; and in case you haven't noticed, I thrive in forests. I don't need to bring common-place supplies." In response I got slightly narrowed eyes, and in that second I knew we were engaging in a battle of wits.

"Well that'll be a first for a quest," Annabeth said. "But what about if we get attacked by a monster? What will you do then?"

"Hence the arrows I will be receiving later," I said in a bored tone.

"And if we come across something that needs to be killed close-range?"

"You and Percy can be the back-up if that need arises."

"If we're not there due to circumstances, what then?"

"I'll get close then stab it with an arrow by hand."

"What if it breaks?"

"My arrows don't break."

"Accidents happen. An arrow isn't meant to stab with. You'll need a real blade to do that," Annabeth countered; and in that moment, I knew I had lost the battle of wits, but maybe not the war.

"I do have a real blade, a very painful one at that."

"Yet it is not meant for killing a monster. It would be useless."

"Then I suppose I would have to make due."

"Or carry a second blade meant for monsters." And just like that she had me. Looks like I wasn't quite wily enough to beat this daughter of Athena. I didn't mind the loss; they'd be plenty of other times to make up for it. What I was worried for was what she was going to make me do next.

"Alright Blondie," I growled. "What do you propose we do to get me a blade just for monsters?" Annabeth smirked at me in amusement.

"Glad you gave in," she said. "Now follow me." Annabeth stood up and walked away; me grudgingly following in her wake.

Annabeth took me to a large shack in a reserved corner of the cabin's grounds. Pulling out a small, silver key from her pocket, she undid the padlock holding the door shut. It swung open outwards and Annabeth stepped inside. I stepped across the threshold and my jaw dropped in shock and surprise as I froze. This shack was full of deadly and beautiful things, an asset to any army ever to grace Ancient Times. So basically it was a large shack full of an assortment of weapons.

I couldn't see any sort of pattern, or order as to how the weapons were placed. It was all mismatched arsenals of weapons erratically placed against the walls and on the shack's floors. There were bows, spears, javelins, swords, daggers, knifes, and even guns that I assumed had been modified to shoot Celestial bronze bullets. There had to be hundreds, no, possibly even thousands of weapons. I had no idea how it could have been possible to obtain all of this – but it was the most wondrous sight I had ever seen.

I walked in slowly, my mouth open slightly. I mean really, if you had seen it, you would be mesmerized just as I was. Annabeth was smirking at my reaction, but I guess my reaction had to have been pretty amusing to her. I wandered through the shack, looking at all the weapons displayed here. All the weapons available to any demigod who came to camp.

As I explored the variety of weapons, Annabeth was rummaging through and old looking chest. After a few minutes she sighed and turned to look at me.

"Give me your stone knife," she instructed. I instinctively stiffened and looked at her coldly.

"What?" I hissed. "Why?"

"You're so suspicious," Annabeth groaned. "I'm not going to take it from you. I just want to use it to compare these knifes here. So I can give you one that you'll be more comfortable and natural with." I scowled slightly, because, unfortunally, she was right. If I had something that felt like what I was used to it would be easier to use. Sighing through my nose I pulled my knife out of its hiding place. I held it out to her hilt first and she took it from me carefully. I made sure not to hold on tight, the stone blade is very sharp and jagged – making it nasty to get cut on.

Annabeth rummaged through the chest a bit more before pulling out a knife in a black leather sheath. I took it from her and as I did I looked at the hilt. It was a simple handle, no protection over top of it. It was made of bronze with two parallel silver wires running up and down it in the centre. I carefully drew the blade out from its sheath and held it in my hand. The blade itself was about seven inches long and an inch and a half wide. Both sides were sharpened and it curved gently in to a fine point. The entire knife was made of a single piece of bronze it seemed.

I lightly tossed the knife in my hand, feeling its weight and balance. The handle was a bit narrower then the blade, making it easy to grasp and balance. It felt very similar to my stone knife, but this one was more aerodynamic and refined – making it ideal for fighting. After a minute of seeing how it felt I nodded and slipped it back into its sheath.

"It works," I mumbled. Annabeth gave me a tiny smile.

"Good, you can keep that," she said. "All the weapons here are welcome for demigods to take." I glance at her to let her know I heard her; then I attacked the sheath to my jeans so my knife hung just behind my right hip – very close to where I kept my stone knife.

"Can I have my other knife back now?" I asked, irritated that she was still holding it.

"Sure," Annabeth sighed holding it out to me. I grasped it eagerly and hid it anyway in my clothing. Once it was secured I turned away from Annabeth and walked over to the door.

I paused on the threshold for a second. On impulse I muttered "Thanks." under my breath; feeling like I should try and be polite. I doubt she heard me, but I didn't stick around to find out. I walked outside and immediately veered straight for the woods. Natural instinct I suppose. And besides, now that Annabeth had helped me to equip myself with a knife, I no longer needed to really worry about monsters.

I stopped walking as my train of thought hit something odd. I had already been in the forest multiple times – not deep enough to be in extreme danger if attacked mind you – but I still had been in there. Yet despite the fact I had spent the night, when monsters are their most powerful there, I hadn't been attacked. Why was that? Was I just a really weak demigod so they never bothered? Or was it because of some other reason? I had no way of telling. But it did make me wonder all the more who my mother was. I knew I had until I was thirteen to be claimed, but still. Was she was so ashamed of her own daughter that she wouldn't claim me? In all honesty, I wouldn't be too surprised if that was the case. I was nowhere near what you would call a good child.

As soon as these thoughts entered my mind, I pushed them back out. Thinking bad thoughts like that wouldn't help when I was already in a permanent bad mood. I exhaled and attempted to get my thoughts under control. When that didn't work, I figured there was about one other thing I could do to calm down. Turning away from the woods I began walking towards the camp's archery range. I hadn't gone more than a few steps when there was a flurry of feathers and the faint pinching feeling of talons on my shoulder.

Aria settled herself on my shoulder. "Don't get to comfortable," I told her whispering. "You'll want to get off when I start shooting." Aria cooed and settled anyways. Ah well, she'd get off the moment I went to get my bow. She was smart enough to make her own choices.

A few minutes later, as I entered the archery range grounds, I was glad to see that it was empty. Judging by the position of the sun in the sky, there was maybe about forty-five minutes to an hour left before dinner. Peace and quiet at last. Taking a deep, calming breath of the sea-scented air I carefully pulled my bow over my head. The second I did Aria fluttered off and perched behind me on a pole used to show the safety line.

I held my bow loosely by my side, a mischievous gleam in my eye as I got an idea. Since it _would_ be a shame to let this private time go to waste, and since I did have that little trial against Will Solace later . . . why not do a little bit of preparation? Besides, a new challenge would be nice.

Stepping backwards I stopped in between two of the poles. At the moment the poles were six feet apart, but they didn't seem to be securely fastened to their places. Meaning . . . with a spark of triumph I pulled the pole on my left right out of the ground. I stabbed it into the ground next to another pole. Now they were a little less then my shoulder width apart.

Pulling myself up on to them, I stood there. Precariously perched balancing just behind the balls of my feet. Taking a deep breath I drew an arrow from my quiver and knocked it. Raising my bow I drew back, pausing for a moment to once again regain my balance. I slowed my breathing and carefully aimed – then I released.

The moment the arrow left my bow I was thrown off balance, the force used to shoot the arrow rocking my back and forth. I held my bow horizontally with both my hands, wobbling dangerously. It took a minute to righten myself out, but I did managed. Once balanced again, I looked at the target forty yards away. My arrow had landed just next to the X in the centre. Not a perfect shot – but I had accomplished the firing of an arrow and not falling off. Now that I knew what to expect, I could refine this skill.

I kept this up until dinner. Only sixteen arrows actually got the X, the rest landed around it, very close mind you. But by the time the conch horn for dinner sounded, I was getting the shots pretty consistent on the X.

In a very good mood I hopped down from the poles and jogged down the range to the target. My bow slung over my back, I pulled all of the arrows out of the target and returned them to my quiver. I ran my hand over to upraised foam target, surprised that the foam was not shredded to bits. Well, the middle was destroyed, but the target itself was still in good condition. Maybe the changed the targets every hour or something.

Realizing I was actually pretty hungry, I ran off for the dining pavilion while Aria glided next to me. Slowly to a walk when I was near the pavilion, I felt my good mood slowly evaporating as I was surrounded by people. Before I had been . . . practically happy, now I was once again feeling like myself. Only being around people will do that to me.

I sat on the end of a Hermes table bench and waited as patiently as I could; giving a death glare to anyone who tried to come to close or talk to me. That was basically what I was doing for the rest of the evening. Well, the rest of the allowed evening before curfew.

After dinner was the campfire (it turned out to be a Thursday night, figures) and that was once again – torturous. I was not a very joyous person, and I would never sing a stupid camp song even if I was being tortured. The best part of these nightly campfire's happen to be the fire itself. The fire it huge, rising up thirty feet and changing colours – switching between bright blues and greens and vibrant reds. The thing was mesmerizing, absolutely amazing.

After that, we all headed back to our cabins. I only pretended to go to sleep in the Hermes cabin. Right before we all split up, Will Solace had caught my eye, as if reminding of our challenge. But I couldn't forget it that easily. I was lying on my bunk in the Hermes cabin waiting for the others to fall asleep. It took them only ten minutes, and when I was sure their breathing at evened out, I rose out of my bunk and grabbed my bow and quiver.

Pulling them over my head I slipped silently out of Cabin Eleven. My eyes quickly adjusting to the night light I ran towards the woods. I loved the way it felt to run at night, it was blissful. It wasn't too hard to find where to meet. A group of about six people was waiting at the edge of the woods, a small single lantern used to light them up. I stopped next to them and glanced around the group.

There was Will Solace, of course, for some reason there was Jake Mason, and the other four were Apollo campers. Probably here as either witnesses or in case there was a huge monster attack so there would be back-up. I stopped in front of Will and folded my arms, waiting to see what this 'challenge' was.

"You came," Will commented.

"Of course, why would I not?" I snapped, hoping he'd just get on with it.

"Maybe you chickened out," he muttered, making me glare at him. "Anyways, the point is you're here. That means we can get started, oh and don't worry about the harpies, we got an agreement. Now I think Jake should explain the actually challenge since he designed it." I raised my eyebrows in surprise and turned to Jake. Jake looked at me sheepishly and held up what looked like a metal bird – thankfully not an owl.

"This is what you guys will be hunting," Jake explained. "It's a mechanic bird. When I wind it up it'll fly around the woods until morning. The goal is to be the first hunter to render it helpless. You don't kill it; instead you have to shoot it down. The first one to bring it back still working wins. You understand?" I nodded.

"Yeah, I got it. Don't kill it but bring it back defeated," I replied. Then I remember something very important. "Do you have my arrows?" Will nodded and took a bunch of arrows held by an elastic band from a girl. I took them from him happily, pulled off the elastic and placed them into wherever I could in my quiver. I quickly ran my fingers over to the fletchings, to be able to tell the difference between normal and bronze arrows. I was tempted to shoot them into a tree, to see how they were, but I figured I'd get an angry dryad after me.

"You ready?" Will asked me. I nodded and we took up our positions on the edge of the woods. Will's bow was in his hand already, where as I left mine on my back. "Three . . . Two . . . One . . . Go!" Simultaneously we sprinted forward and the mechanic bird was release.

Will darted into the forest like a fox. I chose to take a different path. I charged the nearest tree and hurriedly climbed up it. Reaching the wide, lower branches I stepped on them and ran ahead. Seeing as we were hunting a bird, I guessed its instinct would be to fly up high in the trees. The height of the tree's plus my black clothing would give me a slight advantage.

I kept running as fast as I could through the trees, jumping or stepping from branch to branch; leaping from tree to tree. I didn't slow my pace, my body worked automatically, but my mind wasn't focused on stepping. It was focus for the sound.

My ears were trained hard for the slightest sound, the faintest buzz, rustle, crackle, or snap. I was listening for a very particular sound. The sound of the mechanical bird. The moment it had been release, I had made sure to listen to what it sounded like, so I could find it easier. Now I was heading deep into the woods, listening hard for that distinctive sound.

That's when I heard it. The very faint whirring and clanking sound. It sounded far away, probably about half a mile. I froze in the trees and listen hard. A moment later, I instinctively knew it was coming from the northwest. Changing direction, I took off towards it at top speed. As I ran I pulled bow off my back. I could hear the sound growing, I was getting closer. I ran faster, adrenaline pumping through my veins.

I caught a faint golden metallic gleam through the trees up ahead. I knew it was the bird. Just as I was closing in on it I heard a snap coming from the ground behind me. My eyes swivelled to look and I saw Will, tramping through the woods rather gracelessly. Now this suddenly gets interesting.

Looking back to the bird, I took note of the direction it flew and moved along side it. I ran faster, needing to get in front of it. I heard a faint _twang_ sound and out of the corner of my eye I saw an arrow race past the bird. Will missed that by a long shot. Slowly I pulled ahead if the bird, scrambling through the trees, trying to get the lead.

Slowly but surely, I pulled ahead. Once I was about fifteen feet ahead, I stopped. Will let loose another arrow, it was closer, but he still missed. Quickly I pulled a normal arrow from my quiver and knocked it. I raised it and drew back in one fluid motion. I aimed the arrow at the height of its wing flight. I watched it steadily fly forwards, keeping the time for its wing flaps and speed. I waited, and waited, and waited, then I release.

The arrow shot forward like a gleaming bolt. My careful timing payed off. Just as the bird was passing in front of me, and just as it flapped both its wings up, the arrow connected. It shred through the mechanic bird's wings and the force cause it to be pulled to the side. The arrow was still in its wings and the bird was now embedded with the arrow in a tree. Still alive and whirring – but perfectly incapacitated.

I slung my bow back over my head and quickly climbed through the trees. Jumping across a small gap, I came to the tree the bird was embedded in. Scampering along a branch roughly level with it, I crouched and balanced carefully. Reaching out, I grasped the body of the bird with one hand and pulled the arrow out of the tree with the other.

Not bothering to take the arrow out of the wings, I held the bird against my breast and dropped to the ground. Will was still looking around for the bird a few feet away – looking to be a bit confused. I smirked in amusement but didn't acknowledge him. Instead I turned back in the direction I had come from and raced off. Feeling pride and pleasure blossom inside of me.

Minutes later I was walking out of the woods near the group that waited for the winner to return. I sauntered up to them proudly and held out the bird that was still whirring and clacking it's tongue weakly. Just before I had exited the woods I had pulled the arrow out. Jake Mason took the bird from me and all present stared at me in amazement. Seriously, did I do something that strange?

Jake turned off the bird before looking at me again. "How – how did you do that?" He asked. "You couldn't have been gone more than fifteen minutes! And how did you manage to shoot through it's wings this perfectly? That's . . . that's just too good to be true." I shrugged – I didn't see anything so special about it.

"I just calculated the speed it was flying at and the rate at which it beat it's wings. Once I had that down all I had to do was wait for the right moment to release – easy," I said. "Oh, and a hint for next time. Try to make it less noisy. It was ridiculously easy to track from the sound of the motor." Everyone stared at me even more. But at that moment Will stumbled from the woods.

"You!" he exclaimed. "How could you possibly have done that? You must have had help, you couldn't have done that so fast with one shot otherwise!" I rolled my eyes at him.

"I did not, Sunshine-Head, and you know it," I spat. "I won this fair and square, end of story." Will blinked in surprise, like I had suddenly looked different or something.

"Wow Will," one of his siblings said. "You just got beat by a twelve-year-old girl. How did you manage to mess up this badly?" Both me and Will looked angrily at the camper.

"I didn't mess up," Will muttered. "I just have to admit she's better than me. Simple as that, there's nothing else to it. She has more talent then me, and there's nothing I can do about it. Congratulations Arthemia, you win, and you deserve it." He stuck out his hand. I stared at it for a second before shaking it.

"Thanks," I said, trying to keep my tone light; but pride still creeped into it. "You're not so bad yourself – for a boy. It was fun, glad to do it." He released my hand and we looked at each other for a second. Then all seven of us said good-bye. The others headed off to their cabins, but instead I turned northwards.

I came to the basket-tree and climbed up. Placing my quiver and bow out of the way I lay down. My new knife could be felt against my hip. It reminded me that tomorrow I had to be up early – I had a quest I had to go on. Sighing, I closed my eyes and thoughts of what the quest would be like drifted through my head.

Eventually sleep claimed me and I sunk into darkness.


	10. Revelations and Demons

Percy: Revelations and Demons

The morning of the quest, me and Annabeth were waiting at the peak of Half-Blood Hill with Chiron. The sun was only half risen, and the air was thick with golden light from the sunrise. The day was already humid and warm, shaping up to be a perfect day later on. The rest of camp would get to enjoy training, and later tonight, Capture the Flag. Meanwhile Annabeth, Arthemia and I would be embarking on a quest. No perfect day for us.

Currently, we were waiting for Arthemia to get here. She had pulled the same stunt as yesterday and completely disappeared. We figured she had gone out to do something in the woods, but we didn't want to bother looking. That would involve searching pretty much all the trees – and that was never going to happen.

As we waited for the irritating quest leader to show up, I stood there bored out of my mind, fiddling with my backpack strap. My backpack to the basic necessary items for a demigod quest. There was a baggie of Ambrosia squares and a canteen of Nectar. I had also packed provisions like juice boxes, water bottles, granola bars, and packaged fruits. I also included a spare set of clothes and about three hundred dollars in cash. My sword, Riptide was in my pocket in pen form.

We were all getting frustrated when I heard very light footsteps and rustling grass. Looking down the hill into camp I saw Arthemia walking towards us a few feet away. Her skin was pale and wan, and there were dark circles under her eyes. Her hands were stuffed in her pockets, and I saw she had a knife strapped to her waist. Her owl friend Aria was sitting on her shoulder, and I saw different looking arrows poking out of her quiver on her back. Her hair floated messily around her, partly covering face like she was trying to hide. She looked horrible, sad, and scared.

She stopped next to us and kept her head lowered. There was a dark, pained look in her eyes. She wasn't acting like her usual, angry self. Maybe she had been attacked in the woods or something. Or a dryad had tormented her. Probably something like that. But as far as I was concerned, as long as she was here we could get on with this quest and then go back to our normal lives.

"Now that you are all assembled, I can bid you farewell on your quest," Chiron said. "I trust you have gathered all the supplies for your journey. Percy, please try not to crash your parents car while driving." I opened my mouth in protest.

"I'm not that bad a driver! I haven't even _actually_ crashed it yet," I exclaimed. Next to us Arthemia snorted and I glared at her.

"Mm-hmm, yes I know," Chiron said, looking between us sceptically. "Now it is time you departed for your quest. Good luck, and may the gods go with you." We then said our good-byes and Chiron left us as me, Annabeth, and Arthemia walked down the side of Half-Blood Hill into the mortal world.

I unlocked Paul's Prius and opened the driver door. Annabeth slid in the passenger seat, dropping her bag in the back. I was about to pop the trunk to put Arthemia's bow in, when she decided to do something else. Aria went in and sat on one of the backseat head rests, and Arthemia pulled her bow and quiver over her head. She placed them carefully on the car floor before plopping into the Prius' backseat. I blinked in surprise, but otherwise ignored her. I was starting to get the vibe that that was the best bet with her.

I climbed into the car, closed the door, and started the engine. "So where are we going exactly?" I asked as we did up our seatbelts.

"West, blunder head," said Arthemia, he voice dripping with irritation and venom. "It clearly says in the prophecy west. Or do you have so little brain cells that everything must be explained to you?" Was is just me or did she have an even sharper tongue then yesterday? I glared at her in the rear view mirror, and with a start I saw she was holding my gaze through the mirror. That was just plain _creepy,_ but it also made me noticed that strange look in her eyes even more.

"Gosh, just calm down," I said. "I was just double checking since we never _did_ decide anything yesterday." Her eyes flashed up at me, angry since I had directed that statement at her.

"Just shut up and _drive_ already," she growled. I rolled my eyes and pressed my foot down on the accelerator. I could sense that she wasn't in the mood to talk or be anywhere near people. Something was bugging her more than normal – and as irritating and infuriating as she is, I was determined to get to the bottom of it. If it was a demigod related problem then there had to be something I could do to help.

We drove for an hour or two, coming out of Long Island and on to Manhattan. It had been tedious, me and Annabeth speaking quietly, Arthemia sulking in the backseat, one knee drawn up to her chest with her chin resting on it. She had a dark, haunted look in her eye, and any time we tried to look at her, she would glare at us, like she could tell we were watching.

Manhattan traffic was slow that day, and it couldn't have picked a worse day. I wasn't in the mood to drive through it, Annabeth wasn't in the best of mood either, and Arthemia . . . well, it's Arthemia, enough said; she hates most of the modern world, I'm sure. I was honestly starting to wonder if we should have taken some pegasi . . . the car ride was that torturous and miserable.

It actually took us an hour and a half to get through Manhattan and into Jersey on the mainland. I risked and glance at Arthemia in the mirror, and I felt a little sorry for her. She just looked so miserable and pained. It was hard not to be curious as to what was up. Before I had been excepting silent glares and Greek curses, not this silent, haunted misery. Finally I just had to ask.

"Okay, what's wrong?" I asked sighing. I looked at her in the rear view mirror and Annabeth twisted around to look at her. Arthemia looked up at us from under her hair, her eyes flashing dangerously. At that second I was very glad we were in a car, or else I think she might try to attack me or something.

"Nothing is wrong," she hissed quietly. I raised my eyebrows at her in the mirror.

"Oh really?" I asked sceptically. "Then why are you _so_ much more pleasant to be around this morning?" My voice was dripping with sarcasm, and Arthemia just glared at me more and didn't reply; so I continued. "You might as well be wearing a sign that says 'I'm in a horrible mood and have something on my mind'. Come on, it can't be _that_ bad. Now what's wrong?"

"I already told you," she growled, bearing her teeth slightly. "Nothing is wrong." She looked even more fiercely at me in the mirror, before lowering her eyes and glowering at the ground. Me and Annabeth looked at each other before the car lapsed into uncomfortable silence.

For the rest of the day we basically said nothing. I had been driving erratically in a roughly western direction. We were sure where we were going – just west. I think Arthemia was discreetly trying to get me to drive near her forest so she could run off and forget about us. We argued every time we spoke, and I do mean every time. Annabeth and I couldn't say anything without Arthemia snipping back at us.

We stopped for our first night in some random, cheap motel. The rooms were run down, and everything was cracked and dusty. Somehow, we got a room with only two beds. At first I thought we were going to have a problem, but Arthemia countered that she wouldn't have even used a bed in the first place. I figured that was true, seeing as she didn't like staying in the Hermes cabin. So we let her claim the floor.

It was nearing ten o'clock at night when I lay down to sleep. Aria had gone out hours before, and Arthemia was silent as a tombstone. She seem content to just lie on the floor starring at the ceiling, and every once in a while, she would let faint spark play across her fingers. I was almost a hundred percent certain she had the ability to use fire. It made me worried though; did that mean the Great Prophecy was starting? I also knew fire was mentioned in her prophecy, so it had to be important. But I wasn't sure she knew it herself.

With the lights turned out, her faint sparks stopped and I drifted off to sleep. Was it peaceful? Not in the least.

I suddenly found myself standing in emptiness. There was nothing around me, although I could feel a floor beneath my feet. It made no difference if my eyes were close or not, the blackness was complete. I looked around bewildered, but couldn't see anything at all. There was a faint red flicker, then a green flicker, then a silver flicker. For a moment it reminded me of Christmas, but my thoughts about the colours soon stopped as the lights changed faster and faster.

 _Protect her,_ voices hissed, tingles running up and down my spine. _Protect her, take her home, guide her to the last one. Protect her until she accepts . . ._ the voices faded away whispering 'protect her' over and over again. I could almost place the voices, it was just on the tip of my tongue, but I couldn't quite get it.

I woke up with a start, my body was slick with sweat and my head was pounding. As it turned out, the morning had already begun. Annabeth was still sleeping on her bed, but I wasn't the only one awake. I heard a faint sound coming from the floor. Rolling over to look I saw Arthemia curled up in a ball, her eyes squeezed shut. I was pretty sure she was awake, and I was also pretty sure she had had a nightmare. I felt really sorry for her. I'm not sure if it was because she looked so defenceless, or because I was still half asleep, but I still felt bad for her.

"Hey," I whispered. "You awake?" Her eyes flickered open for a second. "Bad dream?" She shook her head defiantly.

"No, I'm fine, just uncomfortable," she growled. I let the subject drop, but I hadn't been so sure. I wasn't going to argue with her though; there was something feral about her. I rolled on to my back and stared up at the ceiling, to tired and baffled by my dream to get up. What had the voices been talking about? Who did they want me to protect? And what was 'the last one'? All demigod dreams mean something, but this one left only questions and no clues.

After Annabeth got up and we had eaten breakfast, we all climbed back into the Prius. Aria had returned and – according to Arthemia – was distressed. Arthemia kept trying to make sense of Aria's noises, and I was taking it as a sign that she had finally lost it. Eventually we all snapped and I pulled us out of the parking lot just to have something to distract me.

We once again lapsed into silence. I drove on for miles, not even sure where I was heading. I just took different routes based on my gut feeling. I wasn't even sure what city or town we were near, I don't think Annabeth did either. But . . .

"Are you trying to subtly abandon me?" Arthemia growled suddenly. I looked at her in the mirror. She still had those dark circles under her eyes, and there was still that pained look in them. She was glaring at me suspiciously from behind her hair. I frowned at her confused.

"Um, what?" I asked. "Why would you say that?" Annabeth turned to look at Arthemia curiously. She snorted and rolled her eyes.

"Because you're going along the route that leads back to Larchorn. Are you so stupid you thought I wouldn't notice? You've been doing it since you pulled out of the lot," she snapped. "So I'm asking, are you trying to not-so-subtly abandon me?" I had no response to that. Next to me Annabeth looked quizzically at her.

"How can you tell if we are or if we aren't heading towards it?" Annabeth seemed stumped. In response I saw through the mirror Arthemia shrugged and looked downwards disinterested.

"Road signs," she muttered. "Sun's position, direction of the breeze, vaguely familiar landscape. Simple really. And can you just answer the darn question because I would like to know _beforehand_ whether or not I'm going to be rid of you stinking people." I almost turned around to stare at her, but focused hard on the road instead.

"Exactly how much were you paying attention when we were first heading to camp?" I asked her. "Because that is just creepy." I got no response. Now Annabeth turned to look at me.

"Percy, how are you choosing where you're going?"

"Err, gut feeling; why?" I mumbled. Annabeth sighed and half rolled her eyes.

"Demigod driving and gut feeling – bad combination," she grumbled.

"Hey!"

"It's just true," she sighed. "Why don't you pull in somewhere and we have lunch. We'll figure out where the Hades we're going after we eat." Best suggestion I heard all day. I readily agreed and pulled into a small turn off lane. Ten minutes later we were sitting outside a convenience restaurant eating lunch.

The only restaurant had been Subway, which isn't one of my favourite places to stop. Me and Annabeth were splitting a foot long BLT sandwich while Arthemia was eating a salad. I don't think she liked it too much . . . the scrunched up nose and glaring eyes gave it away. I was the last one to be eating; hey, I like to savour my food.

"Who do you think my mother is?" Arthemia asked suddenly as I was stuffing the last bite of my sandwich into my mouth. Annabeth and I stared at her for a second, confused. Arthemia wasn't even looking at us, her face was lowered and her eyes were unfocused. The underlying pained looked was even more prominent.

"Where did that come from?" I asked her, chewing my lat bite. Her two coloured eyes flickered to me.

"Never mind, just shut up," she growled under her breath.

"Come on, tell us," Annabeth insisted. "It's usual for someone in your place to be wondering who their godly parent is. It's a fair question." Arthemia sighed irritated and rested her chin in her hand.

"I was just curious," she mumbled, glaring at us. "I know I have until I'm thirteen before I have to be claimed. But I just wanted to know if either of you – well mostly Annabeth – have an inkling of who she might be. I just want to know _who_ she is." I was surprised; I thought Arthemia wouldn't care at all about who her mother was. I was also upset that she thought I wasn't smart enough to figure things out. I'm smart!

"Well," Annabeth said, thinking hard. "To be honest I haven't really thought about it. But I can't really place you under _one_ goddess. You don't look like any of the other demigods – I'm sure you can tell. And your personality doesn't really match either. If I didn't know any better, I would have said Apollo, since you like archery. But it's obviously not him. So . . . I'm not really sure."

Arthemia looked crestfallen for a moment, but that was quickly replaced by a harsh, cold look. "Oh." was all she said. I thought for a moment, trying to draw my own conclusions.

"Let's see," I said thinking. "The main goddesses are Athena, Aphrodite, and Demeter. Then the minors are Hecate, Hebe, Tyche, Iris, Nemesis, and Nike. Now I'm pretty sure we can cross off all the minors . . . well maybe not Nemesis." Here Arthemia glared at me. "You do seem to strike out when people do something that you think is against you." She gave a tiny shrug but still glared. "So that leave's the majors. We can forget about Aphrodite. It'll be either Athena or Demeter. I'm thinking . . . Demeter? You know, 'cause you're more comfortable with nature and stuff." I looked at the girls, feeling pretty proud of myself.

"Oh my gosh," Arthemia muttered. "You actually have some brain cells! It's a miracle. Now, as much sense as that does actually make, did you forget about _this?_ " She snapped her fingers and a spark appeared, shooting off her hand before fizzling out. "If I was a daughter of Demeter, then shouldn't I have power over plants – which I don't – and not be able to do that? Did your limited brain cells forget about that?"

I raised my hands up in defeat. "Sorry, I was just using deductive reasoning – it's not always right. So then it's Nemesis."

"Or Athena," she interjected.

"Or Athena," I mumbled. I was secretly hoping she wasn't my girlfriend's sister.

"You're certainly smart and witty enough to be my sister," Annabeth said. "But let's think this all through. There might be a clue in the prophecy." We sat there thinking for a minute or two. I repeated the prophecy over and over in my mind. But I couldn't come up with anything. Suddenly Annabeth snapped her fingers. "The second stanza: _Three who swore to never change; Give life to one who seems mange._ I'm pretty sure mange can be used to describe you pretty well." Arthemia glared slightly but didn't argue. "The question is what the 'three' are and what does it mean exactly. Lots of goddesses all promised different things, so it could be anyone."

It was quiet for a minute. Then Arthemia slammed her hand down on the table. She stood up; her eyes had a weird look in them. "Just shut up, both of you," she hissed. "I just asked if you had any idea. I didn't mean for you to start figuring it out. I was just curious; you don't need to do this. So just forget I even asked in the first place." She stormed off and leaned against a tree, brooding angrily.

I stared after her for a second before sighing and turning back to Annabeth. "Well, that was extreme and we completely screwed up."

"Tell me about it," Annabeth said. "You wait here, I'm going to go talk to her, then we're going too decided where were going next." I watched as she walked over to Arthemia. From where I was, I couldn't hear what they were saying. I watched them for a few minutes before they starting walking back over to me. Seriously, why does everyone listen to Annabeth and not me? Arthemia still looked a little ticked off, but she wasn't pulling a knife on me so I was feeling calmer then I should have been.

"I really don't see why we're discussing this," Arthemia growled sliding into a chair. She was scowling and her eyes were narrowed, like she had to be on her guard. Annabeth rolled her eyes as she sat next to me.

"Because we don't actually know where were going," She pointed out.

"I don't see why we can't go with the brain-dead boy's gut instinct," Arthemia spat. "I was practically going home! Beside, the darn prophecy mentions a forest, and going west. Larchorn is west of camp and it's a forest. We should just keep going."

"You're not really going to care if we try going anywhere else, are you?" I sighed. Arthemia glanced sidelong at me angrily.

"You catch on fast," she hissed.

"You make it too easy to catch on," I replied smirking. "So, why don't we just go there? It's the only lead we really have." Arthemia had a looked of triumph in her eyes as Annabeth nodded. Me and Annabeth began to stand up; when piercing screams and a heavy _thump thump_ sound came from behind us. Arthemia looked around us and her eyes widen.

" _Kolasi-kinigoskilo!_ " she exclaimed, subconsciously switching to Greek. I immediately knew what she was saying – somehow. There was a hellhound coming for us. I could hear tables and chairs breaking and people screaming more as it got closer.

"Scatter!" I yelled. Half tacking Annabeth in the process I dove to the right. I saw Arthemia jump in the opposite direction. A moment later there was a sickening crunch as the table we had been sitting at was destroyed. I pushed myself off the ground before I fell and pulled Riptide out of my pocket. I spun around to face the hellhound. Arthemia was standing a few feet away from it; her body was crouched and tense – on guard. She was glaring at the monster.

"The _one_ time I left my bow in the stupid car we get attacked by a darn hellhound!" she screeched; partly angry at the monster partly angry at me. She drew out her new knife and held it in her hand. I was a too surprised to move for a moment. Was she serious? This had to be her first monster, and she was ready and willing to fight it! Most people freaked out and get scared.

The hellhound turned on her snarling. This was _definitely_ not Mrs. O'Leary. The hellhound bounded forward a few steps and Arthemia bolted to her right. The monster crashed into a tree. There was a sickening crack as the tree broke and fell; unfortunally it didn't fall on the beast. Standing there, shaking it's head, is was virtually defenceless. Arthemia wasted no time. The second it's head connect with the tree she ran at it. At the last second she jumped, using one hand to push off and make it across it's back, using the other hand with the knife to slash at it.

The beast howled in pain as it exploded into golden dust. The dust blew away and Arthemia land on squarely on the ground. She stood up and slid her knife back into its sheath. She walked back over to me and Annabeth. I was staring at her amazement and only then did I realize I was the only one who had not pulled out a weapon during this little scuffle. What a stupid move when there's a (small) darn hellhound on the loose.

Arthemia stopped in front of us and folded her arms, a happy look half on her face. "That _would_ have been easier if I had my quiver with me. But that was still pretty fun to do; the knife feels great to use by the way." Annabeth smiled and sheathed her knife.

"Good to know," she said. "And now you've met your first monster. It's not so great now that you see what it's like; am I right?" Arthemia shrugged, that semi-happy look gone and her cold one back.

"If it had been bigger I would have been screwed," she mumbled half-heartedly. "So we going or what?" Her tone left almost no room for argument. I shrugged and we rushed back to my car. I also figured that if we waited around any longer police would show up or something. Back in our seats, I started the car and we left the parking lot before anyone could ask question.

I drove for hours; partly following my gut instinct like before, partly following Arthemia's directions. How she knew where we were going, I have no clue. But I was grateful for it; otherwise I probably would have gotten us lost. I'm _really_ bad with directions. And Annabeth had fallen asleep so I kind of had no one else to turn to for where to go.

Eventually, after so long I was ready to snap, we reached an area that seemed more familiar. I couldn't quite place it, but I knew we were getting close to our destination. I heard a faint rustle in the backseat and I looked back using the mirror. Arthemia was slouched down, so it would be hard to see her if you looked in. I frowned, confused as to why she was . . . well, hiding really. I remembered she did it on the way to camp, but I thought that was just because she was miserable.

"Why are you hiding?" I asked her. Despite her face was half hidden, she clearly glared at me.

"Just shut up and drive," she growled. "Don't make it look like I'm here." I blinked and focused back on the road.

"Oo-kay," I mumbled. "Just explain later, will ya? It's annoying when you're all mysterious." I got a growl in reply which I figured was the best I would get. So I left her to her own weird reasons for hiding. Just for something to distract me, I turned on the radio to some local channel. Old fashioned rock 'n' roll drifted through the speakers.

As I continued through the town, Annabeth woke up and Arthemia kept giving me grumbily directions. Slowly I was directed out of town and into countryside. I now recognized that we were in the countryside that had surrounded the forest. We were getting closer to our only lead. Once we were fully out of the town, Arthemia sat back up and stopped hiding. The music on the radio faded out and was replaced by some new report. I didn't pay attention; small town news is not really something I want to listen to.

Eventually, after a very long time of driving down a long country road, we reached the edge of the forest. In the backseat Arthemia was practically bristling with excitement. I guess I can't really blame her for wanting to go back to familiar territory.

I actually have to admit, it wasn't me or Annabeth who found the driveway leading on to the property. We couldn't see it, and if it wasn't for Arthemia who knew this place so well, we would have missed it. So she guided us to the road, but scared us in the process. I had literally been at the bottom of it about to go past when she yelled in my ear to turn up it. Hastily I jerked the wheel to the right and we managed to go down it just in time.

I had been so concentrated on making it onto the driveway without crashing, I didn't see it; but Arthemia claimed there had been a sign at the end. Somewhere down the driveway, there was another sign but I couldn't catch what it said. I kept driving down and after a few minutes parked in the turnaround at the end.

Leaving the car behind, we gathered all our things and set off for the house. Arthemia looked uncomfortable doing so, and the fact Aria had flown into the trees didn't help. I wondered when the last time she stepped over the house property line was. Probably since the time she ran away. I was wondering what we would find at the house. I doubted anything much would be there. But since we had someone who knew their way around, we would probably find something.

We stopped before the house, and we were in for a shock. Yellow caution tape surrounded the over grown garden and a large plastic sign. The sign was white with big, capitalized red lettering. It read: CONDEMMED FOR DEFORESTIZATION AND DEMOLITION. This place was going to be destroyed. I sucked in my breath and stepped away from the now-becoming-angry girl.

Arthemia was trembling with rage, and I could almost see steam coming out of her ears. It took barely a second for her eyes to change colour and her face was murderous. I was expecting sparks to appear – surprisingly no. She let out an ugly scream of rage and punched the sign so hard that it bent and crashed to the ground. Whirling on Annabeth and me she glared at us, giving us a twelve on a scale of ten. Her knuckled were white and her fists were balled tightly.

"This is all your fault!" she screamed at us. "If you two hadn't shown up and taken me away none of this would have happened! I SHOULD have been here protecting this place! But NO! I'm gone for _TWO STINKING DAYS_ and THIS happens! This would never of happened if I had been here! Because of you two -" she used some very colourful Greek words I won't repeat here, they're not entirely appropriate. "This ENTIRE PLACE WILL BE GONE! All because you took me away so I couldn't save it! I hope you're happy about this! You get to torture me AND see the forest DESTROYED! YOU – YOU – you –!" she let out a terrifying scream of anger. I wouldn't be surprised if she burst into tears or something, but instead she let out another horrifying sound and raced off.

She bolted to my left, making a beeline straight for the forest. Me and Annabeth took one look at each other before racing off after her. Arthemia was fast, but anger was slowing her down, her breath coming out in short, harsh bursts. I didn't even know where she was going except for away.

She entered the forest and me and Annabeth followed. We had barely taken five steps when there was a blinding flash and I saw Arthemia stop. I nearly crashed into her, but when I looked past her I froze. A young woman was standing in front of us, looking no more than my age. She was wearing a silvery green Greek chiton with a silver-pink wrap hanging over her arms. There were light brown Greek leather sandals on her feet. The woman had cold, piercing green eyes; and her hair was a lustrous brown, half of it pulled up and pinned in elegant swirls while the rest spilled off her shoulders in big curls. The woman was staring at us annoyed with her hands on her hips. She looked a lot like a goddess.

"So _now_ you return, when it's already too late," the woman said disdainfully. She had a faint Greek accent. I looked at the woman confused, who was she?

"I didn't exactly have a choice," Arthemia growled. "Now get out of my way." The woman sighed haughtily.

"You're so rude," she mused. "So unlike one of your mothers, who can be quite a good friend. And you did have a choice, everyone has a choice. Now you chose to leave, so you can stay lost." This woman just kept confusing me. I had no idea what she was talking about. Tentively I raised my hand.

"Excuse me for asking, but are you a Dryad? Or some other sort of Nymph?" I asked. The woman turned her icy stare to me.

"No I am not. Not directly at least. Why does everyone think that I'm some sort of Nymph? It's so rude!" she ranted. "For your information I am what is usually called a corrupted spirit. And no, I am not evil! I can be, I can be very deadly. But that is only under certain circumstances. Circumstances that you are here under! Really, I expected so much more from _you._ " She gestured to Arthemia who looked at her confused.

"Me? Why?" she growled, almost offended. "And what circumstance? And exactly what do you have for stopping me! Let me pass!" The woman pouted prettily and shook her head.

"I'm the spirit meant to watch the Tree – you know the one," she said. "You were suppose to be the material world guardian, but you abandoned your post. Now it's in danger. Everyone is an enemy – including you. At least one of your mothers would have never abandoned a piece of nature in need." I was completely lost in this conversation. This corrupted spirit or whatever was talking in riddles! Maybe that's why only Arthemia had an inkling of what was happening.

"I was never told to be a guardian," Arthemia hissed. "And you keep saying one of my mothers. What are you talking about? A person can only have one mother! Tell me what you mean." The woman laughed coldly.

"Only one mother! No, that's not true!" she cackled. "Haven't you ever wondered why you're so different? You don't have a normal parentage, my dear. In fact, your most prominent part is one least expected. But you're much crueller then her, she never turned her back on my kind – well the nice ones of my kind. She's known as one who goes around with them. Ah, now I can see the realization dawn on your face. Yes, that's right; she's the completely unexpected one." I had absolutely no idea what was happening. Annabeth seemed to be struggling to understand, but had some idea. Arthemia was looking at the woman, horror, shock, fear, and amazement on her face.

"No. I – it's not possible," she stuttered. "It's impossible – it would go against everything! You're lying! It can't be true, it's just not possible!" The woman cackled in amusement.

"No, I'm not lying, my dear," she soothed. "Now I suggest you leave before this becomes ugly. You don't want to see my ugly side I assure you." Arthemia frowned and shook her head stubbornly.

"No, I'm not leaving," she spat. "I don't believe anything that you're saying is true. It's all lies! It has to be!"

"Arthemia what are you talking about? What is she saying?" I broke in. Arthemia glanced at me, almost nervous like. Then she fixated her glare on the spirit.

"She's saying . . ." Arthemia gulped. "She's saying I have more than one mother. And that – and that one of them is Artemis, Goddess of the Hunt."


	11. Demonic Tree Roots & Co

Arthemia: Demonic Tree Roots and Co.

I was literally panicking. My heart was going at a hundred miles an hour and sweat was forming on my brow. I was seconds away from convulsing. I was shaking, in panic and fear, and in amazement. It just couldn't be possible! It simply couldn't be true – it wasn't even possible! The corrupted spirit was lying! She had to be! I couldn't be a daughter of Artemis!

Sure I had always liked the goddess and sure I could hunt fairly well, but that didn't make me her daughter! She had sworn to be an eternal virgin and maiden – so she couldn't be my mother! She simply couldn't be, it was preposterous. I wasn't a forbidden child, I couldn't be, Artemis couldn't be my mother! There was no way she could even have me and keep her oath, and there was no way she would even find a male she could approve of.

But if I was . . . if for some crazy, absurd, insane reason I _was_ her daughter, I probably would have been killed a long time ago. I mean, come on, a forbidden child can't just roam around for years without getting discovered. Discovered and killed. Whether it was the River Styx getting revenge for a broken oath or another god just getting angry; something should have tried to kill me a long time ago.

I was staring at the corrupted spirit as multiple emotions rolled through me, my eyes completely unfocused. After forcing myself to say what the spirit woman had been telling me my throat had closed up and I completely lost the ability to speak. For a minute it was deathly silent, I was frozen, Percy and Annabeth were frozen too, and the woman was looking at us haughtily satisfied.

"No," someone said eventually, Annabeth I believe. "No, no that's just not possible! There is no way that is possible or true! It has to be a lie. Artemis cannot have had a child! It's impossible; it's illogical just – NO!" I blinked rapidly and focused my eyes, coming out of my stupor. I turned to look at my quest members (that still makes me shudder), Percy was just standing there with blank shock on his face. Annabeth was – I'm not actually sure how to describe how she looked; shocked, outraged, surprised, struggling to comprehend, and all other emotions/expressions that someone could be going through at a time like this.

"Ah, but it is possible – that's the catch, daughter of Athena," the woman said. "It is possible, but _she_ betrayed her post, her bloodline, everything." The spirit glared at me coldly. What darn post was she talking about? Was she daft?

" _Shut up,_ " Percy growled suddenly. "You don't know what you're talking about! I've met Artemis and I know for a fact she would never have a daughter! And there is no way that Arthemia is her daughter! There is no way that Artemis has a child! It's not possible! She hates men! She's turns them into jackalopes for crying out loud! You're just a lying nature spirit who speaks in riddles! What you're saying is impossible and – and – no. No, no, NO!" I looked at Percy in surprise; I thought his tiny mind would still be working through the facts. He was looking angrily at the spirit, as if he really wanted to slap or punch her. If I wasn't so baffled I would be!

The woman cackled, amused. "You keep saying the possible is impossible, but it isn't. And I'm _not_ a nature spirit! Stop being so rude and don't call me that! Now I suggest you get out. Especially _you._ " This she directed at me. "You reject your own parentage, you abandoned your post! You are a disgrace! You are now the enemy! Get out – get out you filthy child!" Underneath the shock, the surprise, anger bubbled up slightly. I didn't abandon anything, I wasn't a disgrace, I wasn't an enemy of the forest. I was nothing this freak said – I couldn't be. I didn't even care if on some levels it made sense; this freak had to be lying. And she kept rambling on about the oddest things!

Somehow I found my voice and I looked harshly at the woman. "No," I hissed. "No, shut up! I am not anything you say I am! I never had some sort of post! I'm not an enemy! I won't do what you say and just _leave._ Nothing you say can be trusted; I'm not a forbidden child. I don't believe a word you say. Now get out of my way and _let. Me. Pass._ " I still couldn't move, I was still in too much shock to do so. But I had found my voice, and now this corrupted spirit would no longer spew her lies.

The woman pouted and sighed. "Aw, and I was hoping you would be wise and leave before this got ugly. Before I got ugly. But I guess not. It's such a shame when the material world guardian becomes the enemy. I was hoping this would be a peaceful encounter, but I guess not. Have fun dying, unforeseen child." Then it happened. She changed.

Her silver pink wrap began to gather up. It rose around her, rooted into her back. The fabric dissolved into intricate skeleton wings made of leafless tree branches covered in think moss. Her fingers elongated into short but sharp talons; and her toes morphed together into three with sharpened talons. Her hair suddenly changed in texture – no longer brown hair, now it was made of thread-thin pieces of bark, still in the same style. For a moment her eyes glowed, and then they were icy pieces of green glass. The woman's skin rippled and it took on a wood-like consistency. She opened her mouth, showing off her teeth as they changed. All of them sharpened to razor points, and her incisors grew longer. Her silvery green dress rippled as well and it was suddenly the black-brown colour of rotting wood.

I stood absolutely frozen in shock at the hauntingly beautiful yet scary winged demon in front of me. Was there even something like this in Greek mythology? I doubted it, but at that moment, I wasn't really caring. The woman hissed at me and raised a taloned hand. For a brief second panic engulfed my mind as I thought she was going to slice me to ribbons; but instead she rake her hand through the air in a complicated pattern.

For a moment, it was silent and calm – then the ground exploded. Dirt flew everywhere in clumps and black-green vines with razor sharp thorns wriggled free of the earth. I was paralyzed, utterly frozen in shock and fear. I had no idea how to react to this. A hellhound is one thing, but a freaky thing that controls vines? Not something I can handle! The vines wiggled in the air like snakes, then they bolted forwards; ends lashing out in spiked hooks. I couldn't move, only watch in horror as they sped towards me. There was a sudden jerk on my shoulder and I stumbled back, my body jarring into motion.

I crashed to the ground as did my saviour. I blinked and looked over to find . . . Percy. Crud, now I'd have to say thank you or something later, not something I ever want to do. Regaining my sense I leapt to my feet just vines erupted from the ground and curled feebly clutching at where I had been sprawled.

Vines rose out of everything, the ground, the trees, anything that could host plant life. All of us were whirls of movement, desperately trying to avoid getting suffocated and bled to death by thorny vines. At some point I had pulled my Celestial bronze knife out (do you really think stone would work?) and started using it to cut back vines if they came to close. This couldn't have been going on for more than a minute, yet it was already a lost battle. Unless . . .

An idea struck me like a thunderclap. What the corrupted spirit had said, something in it just might work. A way to draw away her attacks and save our skins. The only problem was getting there fast enough. But judging by what the spirit had been like, I could probably be a fair diversion. Dodging my way through vines I came as close to Annabeth and Percy as I could. Annabeth had had the same idea as me and was using her knife to slash back vines. Percy on the other hand was just using his bare hands; I guess he doesn't really have to worry about getting cut, since he's invincible and stuff.

"Annabeth! Percy!" I yelled as I bent backwards to avoid getting my head severed. This was seriously starting to get past risky and well into extreme danger. Actually it probably was already there . . . Percy and Annabeth's head snapped towards me a look of question on their faces. "Follow me! I have an idea!" They looked slightly sceptical but didn't protest, which I found a miracle in.

What happened next made me very grateful for growing up in this forest and knowing it like the back of my hand. I knew exactly what direction every important marker or place was in. Ducking a bit to my right I wove jumping and ducking past Annabeth and into a thicker swarm of vines. I should have seen that coming. Growling angrily in my throat I sliced through a couple of vines and blazed a rough, temporary trail through them. I heard scrambling footsteps behind me and I knew it was Percy and Annabeth. I mean, what else could it be?

I raced forward and after a dozen or so steps the razor sharp vines weren't as thick. Another dozen steps and the vines slowly vanished all together. That was just plain _weird._ The woman was practically giving us the chance to escape. Unless that was what she wanted, it could be. But what I had in mind would most definitely not be what she wanted. Turning around I kept running backwards but faced Percy and Annabeth so I could talk to them.

"You two continue in this direction and whatever you do – _don't change course,_ " I ordered curtly, my voice coming out as a snarl. I got confused looked in reply.

"What are you planning to do?" Annabeth asked me suspiciously.

"I'm going to draw her fire," I replied, baring my teeth wolfishly. "See ya both later, and remember – _don't. Change. Course._ " Without waiting for any semblance of a reply I whirled to my right and ran off.

I ran fast through the forest, and I could barely keep up. The spirit or whatever had been after me . . . mostly. I was her main reason for attacking. And because of that she was giving chase. Razor tipped vines were growing out of just about everything and were aiming for me. It's rather chilling to see giant vines growing longer just to come and kill you.

Slipping my knife back in it's sheath I squeezed through a narrow gap between two trees; barely missing a vine going for my neck. It had to be around here somewhere. There was a sound and I glanced behind me. A vine was going top speed for my head. I dove to the ground and crashed into a bush. The vine passed over top of me and cut an ugly scar in a tree.

I pushed myself to my knees and shook my head to clear it. Scrambling forward I pushed aside a fern and saw what I had been looking for. A foxhole. I had accidentally fallen into this when I was younger, while chasing after a fox as you can imagine. When inside I had gotten so turned around that I followed the main tunnel and found it had a second entrance. That entrance came up not too far from The Tree. Afterwards I had gone back and explored it. Turns out it was abandoned and quite a maze. Of course I got so curious I figured out most of the tunnels. Fast and easy way to get to my destination.

Without waiting for more vines to come I swung my legs in and pushed myself down. The tunnel was oddly large – I think it maybe have originally been made by a wolf for some purpose. I slid down a few feet in a half laying half sitting position. I heard vines cut through the air above the foxhole. With luck it would take the spirit a while to figure out I was underground.

I slid to the bottom of the little drop and coughed as the dust settled. Quickly I switched position so I was on my hands and knees. Closing my eyes I remembered the most direct route I had found and scurried forward at a crawl. I could still picture the place as I remembered it. I went quickly and quietly, ignoring the crawling bugs, damp, musty smell, the thin webbings of root bottoms.

It was quiet in the foxhole; almost too quiet. I knew this couldn't be this easy. I kept my eyes closed and went a good pace. Then I heard this faint rumbling. _It's probably just the river or something,_ I thought. _I'm sure it's course has changed so you can hear it here . . . or maybe not . . ._ The rumbling was slowly growing louder; and closer. My eyes flew open and I knew what it was.

I scrambled forward as fast as I could. A moment later thin, razor thorned vines broke through the tunnel where I had just been. I was just glad my instincts were good enough for me to figure that out. Without wasting a heartbeat I kept going. I knew I was a little more than halfway to the other exit. More vines erupted into the tunnel behind me. Some even broke through the odd side tunnel.

Always just half a step ahead of the vines; I was barely keeping up. It was getting harder and harder to keep up this fast pace. My hands and knees were sore, the dirt was loose and shifty, the air and everything – including me – was damp with moisture. My breath was coming out in short puffs. I was on the verge of panicking; I was being hunted in my own home by a corrupted spirit created from the outskirts of Greek mythology! So really, what else was I suppose to be doing? Have a tea party and celebrate that I'm one of the hunted now?

Just when I was reaching my limit, just when I was to break pace and stop in exhaustion; the tunnel opened up. I saw green-golden light that was flooding in through the trees and plants into the tunnel. With renewed strength I pushed myself out of the tunnel just as vines closed off the exit. I crouched there for a second before pushing myself to my feet. You know, I never remembered the tunnel being that long. Then again, before I had only gone in for pleasure and never thought of time. I guess I never really thought I'd need it for an emergency.

Forcing myself to my feet I sprinted off in the direction of The Tree. As soon as I was running again the vines started after me. I realized they were following based on the vibration I sent through the ground. If I only I could stand still . . . but for my plan to work I couldn't.

A vine caught my ankle and I inhaled sharply. I was going fast enough that I broke off the thorn and tip. My ankle stung and I knew it was cut. Gods that hurt, must be some sort of poisonous sap inside. I quickly increased my speed as much as I could so I wouldn't have to worry about more overly painful cuts. At least I hope.

Then I saw it through the trees and leaves. The Tree. Just the briefest glimpse of it's massive trunk through branches and leaves before it vanished from view. It renewed the waning energy in me. Taking in a huge breath I slipped through to closely growing trees and into the rough clearing-like area around The Tree.

For a brief moment, when I no longer felt so threatened, I had a clear view of everything. Sadness and longing welled up inside me at sight of The Tree. Even though I had been gone not even a week, I missed the place. It was my home, my fortress, my world (in a manner of speaking). The platform I had constructed was still up in the lower branches. Tearing my gaze from the beautiful boughs, I saw Percy and Annabeth near defending themselves from a few dangerous vines. Good, that meant they had chosen to listen to me after all.

I quickly crossed the space between me and The Tree. I slid to a stop and whirled around. I pulled my bow over my head and lifted my hand to hold the top of an arrow, but I didn't take it out. Annabeth caught my eye and nodded. I knew she knew what I was planning. I set my feet and glared fiercefully out at the forest.

"Call them off!" I snarled loudly, my voice ringing through the air. "Call them off or I'll shoot it!" This was a bluff, a desperate bluff. I wouldn't have the guts to harm The Tree. Hopefully it wouldn't come down to actually doing it; but if I did I had to hope my back-up would do it instead. "Call them off _now_ or I _will_ shoot!"

Slowly the vines stiffened in their places. It was eerie. One was frozen trying to wrap around Percy's neck, another frozen mid swing for Annabeth's head, and several were frozen in lunges; jagged tips going straight for me. It was deathly still for a second. Then, with a crack of wood, the woman stepped out of the trees and stood before us, only yards away. She put her hands on her hips and looked at me coldly, the moss covered wings on her back buzzed rapidly at random seconds.

The woman smiled coldly at me, she was oddly beautiful for a creature of malignance. "It's such a shame you resort to bluffing," she said soothingly. "We both know you'll never harm The Tree." I grinded my teeth and set my shoulders. Before she could say anything else or make the vines attack again, I pulled the arrow out of my quiver and knocked it on. I swivelled around to The Tree and drew back.

"Do you want to test that theory?" I hissed through my teeth. The woman frowned for a second before smirking and dismissing my comment with a flick of her hand. I tensed and drew back my bow string further.

"It's just a bluff; I can read it in your body language. You're just pulling a sham," the woman said haughtily. I swallowed nervously. She didn't believe it, and I knew any second she would attack us again. I knew exactly what I had to do, but I wasn't happy about it. I looked at Annabeth and Percy mournfully – just so they knew how horrible this actually ways for me – and then I took aim for The Tree.

"That's what you think," I murmured angrily. Before I could let my conscious take over, before I could lose the tiny amount of courage I had worked up, before anything could happen to change things; I released the bow-string. There was a quiet _twang!_ of the string and the arrow leapt forward. I heard the woman shriek in outrage, I heard the vines rumbling and splitting the earth as they came for us, but it was too late. The arrow hit it's mark, a tiny knot in the side of the trunk.

The arrow stuck out of the middle of the knot like an axe on a chopping block. At that moment there was a loud rumbling, as if a flood was coming. The ground beneath me and my quest members shook violently. I bent my knees and held my arms out, trying to keep balance as the earth trembled. Suddenly the ground around all of us tilted; and dark crack between the earth and the base of The Tree's trunk appeared. It grew wider until it was a gaping hole and the forest debris was sliding down into it.

I tried to take steps backwards but the ground was sloped so steeply my feet slipped. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Percy and Annabeth struggling as well. Behind me I heard the vines still coming for us. The yawning black hole beneath The Tree grew wider. I started to turn around, hoping to run before the slope became vertical. With a yelp I lost my balance and crashed to the ground. I clawed desperately at the ground with my free hand trying to find something to hold. There was nothing. I let out a piercing shriek as I slid down the earth on my stomach into the blackness below. I was able to see Percy dive frantically trying to catch me before I slid off the ground.

The strip of light between the base of the tree and the trick earth grew smaller and smaller. I was falling. Falling into the earth, falling into nothingness. I fell slowly, as if sinking through water, but at the same time it felt like the speed of light. I let out a strangled sound as the darkness engulfed me quickly. A second later I crashed into a stone floor on my side; my bow clattering beneath me.

I gasped for breath as I sat up, quickly checking my bow for damage. I found none. I shivered as the damp air settled in my bones; the stone floor was freezing beneath me. A moment later there was a thud near me and I heard a creaking sound above; there was a bang and the darkness was even darker.

I gasped in panic and scuttled backwards on my hands. I didn't know what the thud was, but I wasn't too sure I wanted to find out, especially now that the way in was clearly closed. My hand closed around my bow and I held it to my chest. I'm not normally scared of the dark, but this place was so dark it was terrifying.

For a minute it was silent, then, "Arthemia? Are – are you here?" I exhaled as my panicked brain placed to voice.

"Percy? Annabeth?" I said softly into the darkness.

"We're here," said Annabeth. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," I muttered. I heard sounds of movement and I assumed Percy and Annabeth were getting to their feet. Shakily I pushed myself off the cold stone floor and stood up as well, gripping my bow tightly.

"Where are we?" Percy asked, clueless as usual. I figured from his tone that the question was directed at me.

"Beneath The Tree genius," I said foully. "Aside from that I . . . don't know. I never knew this . . . whatever it is existed." There was a stunned silence. I stood there rather scared. I never knew there was a trapdoor, and I never knew that there was some type of room beneath The Tree. I always thought it was normal beneath The Tree, not that there was an empty space.

"Can – can you make a fire with your hands to light up the place?" Percy asked after a pause. I scowled in the direction of his voice.

"No I cannot! I can't make fire," I growled. "I can only make sparks!"

"Calm down." Annabeth's voice. "We can't afford to get in a fight done here, we need to work together to get out of here." I sighed irritated.

"I hate it when you're right," I hissed. Taking matters into my own hands, I reached out behind me and cautiously began to take small steps backwards. I breathed slowly, trying to keep my cool. After a minute of walking my fingertips touched something cold and rough. Putting my bow back over my head, I felt along what I touched. I figured it was stone by feel, I felt along it slowly, unable to find an end. "I think there's a wall here," I murmured under my breath.

After a moment of feeling the wall my hand met something rising out of the rock. It was ice cold metal. I ran my hand along it; it met another piece of metal perpendicular to the ground. The feeling of it made my hands go numb. I felt to the top of the metal pole, it widened suddenly into a cup. I reached inside the cup and felt the bottom; at that moment I felt a tingling in my fingers like when I made sparks. Suddenly a flame exploded and I leapt backwards jerking my hand away.

It was a wall torch, embedded in the stone wall. The bursting flame dimmed a little bit, and it lit up everything. I blinked rapidly as my eyes adjusted to the sudden light. Before anyone could even think of commenting I held up my hand to keep them quiet.

"This, is not my fault," I growled. "I did not light that thing." Really I hadn't, all I did was touch where the flame was suppose to be held and . . . whoosh! Intsa-flame. With my little pardon said, I quickly turned my attention to where we were. There was a single wall torch, made of cold black iron and looking Gothic in style. It was attached to the only stone wall, made of large roughly cut bricks plastered with mud of some sort.

We were in a room, smaller than a classroom, but not by much. The ground was of black, hard packed, dusty dirt. The other three walls were made of . . . made of . . . In confusion I ran at one of the walls and felt it myself. Touch confirmed what my sight had told me. The other three walls were made of giant roots. Thick, dusty, brown-green roots the size of pipes. They flowed into the ground, mangling with each other. Following where they came from I saw they came up from one corner of the room-thing, growing to form the ceiling. Except in one corner, where it was like dirt hardened into a sheet. I assumed that was the trapdoor we had fallen into. It was the opposite corner of where the roots came from; which I judged to be the centre of The Tree.

I couldn't believe this place was here. I thought I had known everything about the forest. And I was wrong. I clearly didn't know everything, how on earth could there have been a trapdoor leading down to this place? How could I have never found it? How could it even exist, with one wall of stone and three of root? Yet here it was, right around me, like magic. It was incredible.

I walked the perimeter of the room, marvelling at how this could even be possible and how amazing it was. This place, well it was like a dream it me. I ran my hands along the walls, assuring myself it was real. Coming back to the stone wall I stopped and inspected the wall torch, wondering how it had lit itself. I didn't even notice Annabeth or Percy until there was a faint sort of vibration and I heard their footsteps scuttled towards me.

"Um, Arthemia . . ." Percy mumbled under his breath to me.

"Shut up," I hissed. "I'm trying to think."

"Arthemia, turn around, _now_!" Annabeth ordered. Growling in my throat I turned around to see what the big fuss was about. I stopped short at what was happening. The root walls were moving. Contracting and flexing as the faint vibrations coursed through the ground. I swallowed nervously as before my eyes the walls shuddered and began to slowly shrink inwards. Gulping I shrank back against the stone wall as the roots closed in, bringing all of us towards certain doom.


	12. Prison Break . . . In?

Percy: Prison Break . . . In?

My mind was, literally, blown to pieces. The only thing that could possibly do more damage was if Minos, the ghostly creep himself, cursed me with insanity. Everything that was happening was just too shocking. We had been chased by a possessed spirit, split up to be saved by Arthemia's brilliance, and then caught up in all this strangeness. I don't know how, but Arthemia's arrow had triggered this. In a way, this was all her fault. She had ordered us to come here, and she had gone through with her obvious bluff.

No wonder my mind was blown.

The strange root room was giving me the chills. Not just because it was impossible, nor because Arthemia the forest expert hadn't known about this. No, it had more to do with the ominous feeling of being watched and Arthemia's clear knack for getting us into trouble. First she had opened the trapdoor, then she had tumbled in – looking quite panicky – and she had also lit up the wall torch. Even though she claimed she didn't. And now, because of something she did, we were about to be squeezed to our death by tree roots.

I knew Arthemia must have triggered it somehow. Me and Annabeth had been standing innocently in the centre looking around while she had been checking out everything. But there was one single thing that had scared me the most. The fact the she hadn't noticed it at all when the roots had started to close in; and the fact that now that she had, she looked down right _terrified._

She was more scared then I had ever seen her over the past few days. Save for maybe when I knew she had nightmares. But even then it hadn't been this bad. She had faced and killed a hellhound looking only alarmed and worried. Well, she is a hunter so I guess dangerous animals wouldn't be too worrisome. She had only looked panicked and nervous when facing the corrupted spirit. The rest of the time she displayed cool confidence and fiery anger. Right now she looked ready to faint from terror.

Her face was stark white, paler than linen. Her lips were pressed together in a thin line, and her mis-coloured eyes were wide. She was backed up against the stone wall next to the wall torch. Her hands were pushed flat against it, like she wished it would absorb her. And the sure sign she was frightened witless; she was pressing up so hard that her bow and quiver were getting squished, but she didn't seem to care. I knew you only had to meet her once to understand her bow and quiver were the most important things to her.

Annabeth was standing on the other side of her. Her expression told me she was afraid and trying to think of a way out of this. But I somehow knew that if anyone were to figure a way out of this, it wouldn't be her. It would be Arthemia, the hunter who knew how to survive; the hunter who was quite possible, a child of the Huntress herself. I knew somehow that only she could get us out of this. But she was too scared. And I was too freaked out to think of anything at all.

The root walls creeped closer and closer. The entire place shook, the ground vibrating so hard I could barely stand up. The stone wall was cold against my back; and the flame from the torch lit up everything brightly, unwavering were it sat. Closer . . . Closer . . . Only a foot or two away. The deadly roots, waiting to crush us to bits and strangle the last bit of air out of our bodies.

"Arthemia?" I managed to get out, my voice sounding strangled. "What did you do?" All three of us were pushed back against the stone wall. The wall torch's light glowed steadily above Arthemia's head. Arthemia's eyes flickered to me before staring once again in terror at the constricting root walls.

"I – I didn't do anything!" She growled. "Don't blame me for this mess!" I wanted to yell at her that it _was_ technically her fault. But right now wasn't the time to be arguing.

"Oh great," I mumbled. "Any idea on how to get out of this? Annabeth? Anyone?" I figured it would be smart to ask my girlfriend, because normally I would depend on her. Of course in situations like this things do go whacko.

"No clue." Was the only reply I got. The roots were moving faster now. We were forced to bunch together by the wall torch. The deadly roots were inches from our bodies. I tried making myself as thin as possible. The root walls squeezed closer.

Inches . . . then not even one . . . The walls touched our bodies. Pushing us even more tightly against the stone wall. Desperately I tried to push them back; but to no avail. They squeezed us tighter. I tried to fight back, but my chest was being constricted and I couldn't breathe. Black spots danced around my eyes. That was it; we were all going to die.

Suddenly the flame in the torch – which was right next to my head – flashed brighter. Like as if it was one of those cheesy idea light bulbs. There was a gasping intake of breath.

"Both of you stop struggling!" Arthemia ordered her voice cold and airy. "Whatever you do don't move, just relax!" Was that her escape plan? So much for us surviving.

"What?" Annabeth hissed.

"Do it! If you want to live, do it!" That was the last thing I heard before vines encompassed my face.

The vines were rough and damp against my skin, like little threads cocooning it. There was no air, no light. I could feel my body going limp from lack of air. Instinctively I wanted to fight back; to try and push them away. But Arthemia's words rang dimly through my mind. _Don't move._ The only chance . . . the only idea . . .

In an insane leap of faith, I let my body go limp. Closing my eyes I lost any stiffness I might have; I was a movable as wet spaghetti. My mind dimmed almost completely and then . . .

All resistance disappeared. It was as if a huge weight had been lifted off my chest. The feeling of roots against me vanished. I sucked in a gulp of air. The next thing I knew I was falling forward face first. My body slapped against icy, dirt covered stone. A moment after I hit the ground the pressure around my feet disappeared as well.

Slowly forcing my eyes open I pushed myself off my stomach and onto my knees. Blinking rapidly I looked around and my jaw dropped.

I was in a long, dark, low ceiling corridor. It reminded me uncannily of the Labyrinth. The air was damp and musty; smelling of mildewed and feces. The ground was a solid piece of cold, grey stone and covered in swirling dust, dirt, fur, and straw. I could only see for a foot or two around me. The walls were curved and cruel looking, deathly smooth and covered in spider-threads. Evil bristled in the air down here; so thick it was almost choking.

I coughed a couple of times before looking over to my left. Arthemia was crouched there looking around with wide eye wonder; her hands were balled tightly and her knuckles were white. I couldn't see beyond her dim figure. She held the trance for one . . . two . . . three seconds before her eyes widen further for a second and she tore her bow and quiver off her back. I watched as she quickly inspected them over before breathing a sigh of relief. She mumbled something in Greek and put them back in their usual places.

I crawled closer to her. "You okay? Nothing broken?" I asked. She straightened up indignity.

"I'm perfectly fine," she hissed. "Don't concern yourself with me."

"Hey, I'm just looking out for the person who saved my life. Is that a problem?" I snapped. She glared at me before staring blankly into the corridor in front of us. "That was a stroke of genius back there, how'd you figure it out?" She snorted through her nose.

"Devil's Snare," she grumbled. "From Harry Potter. I noticed that whenever I relaxed a limb it loosened. That's how I knew what to do." I looked at her surprised, unsure exactly what she was talking about, but nonetheless impressed.

"Okay . . ." I don't know why but something felt wrong. "Um . . ." Then I realized what was wrong. "Hang on – where – where's Annabeth?" I moved enough so that I should be able to see her. But she wasn't there; it was just me and Arthemia. Where could she be? She couldn't have popped out somewhere else; there was nowhere else to go! "Where is she? She should be here! Where is she?" My heart was pounding like a crazy drum as I jumped to my feet, my head spinning around in desperation. In panic I search the spot where she should have come through; I pounded on the root wall that was behind us, I kicked at the ground. I even pulled out Riptide and tried slashing at the roots. Nothing worked. She – she was gone. "Where is she?" I was panicking now, I couldn't think straight. She – she couldn't just be gone! It wasn't possible! I couldn't just lose her like that! "Where is she?"

"Percy." Arthemia's voice cut through my mind like a knife blade, but I was too worried to pay attention. "Perseus Jackson, snap out of it!" There was a sharp blow on my cheek. I blinked rapidly and focused on what was happening. Arthemia was standing in front of me, glaring, and she slapped me hard once again. "She not here; get it? She's somewhere else; she didn't trust me enough to listen. Snap out of it, there nothing we can do."

"B – But – she's – she's –" I started to stutter, but Arthemia cut me off with one look.

"I know, now shut up and let me think, I need to check something out. Meanwhile, try to deal with that fact your _girlfriend_ is missing." I was shocked into silence. She sounded like she didn't even care about how horrible this was for me. I watched numbly as she walked over the root wall and calmly slipped her arm through them.

"Arthemia." No reply. "Arthemia? What are you doing? Arthemia?" She bit her lip and stood that way up to her shoulder for a minute before sliding her out.

"I thought so," she grumbled. "Only two of the root walls were moving. This one –" she tapped the wall. "Was stationary and it was the floor and stone wall that was moving. It's retreating now; I could feel it with my fingers. But I don't think we're going to be getting back. The only thing to do is go forward." I was shocked at how easily she was putting herself in charge. She casted me a harsh but meaningful look as a scowl took over her features. She spun on her heel and started walking swiftly away from our entrance.

"Arthemia, where are you going?" I complained. "C'mon Arthemia, explain!" she completely ignored me. "Arthem – argh your name's to long. Can't I call you something else?" That got her attention. She stopped dead in her tracks. I was being serious when I asked; her name is ridiculously long to say more than once.

"Like what?" she hissed, her tone colder than Antarctica.

"I don't know . . ." I grumbled, my mind still in shock from Annabeth just disappearing the fact _no one cared._ "Um . . . what about Arty?" Worse possible thing I could have suggested. Arthemia stopped dead for a second, her body rigid and quivering in anger; there was a whirl on movement and the next thing I knew I was on my back flat on the ground as Arthemia stood hatefully over me. Her eyes colours were morphing again while she glared at me dangerously, there was an ugly scowl on her face and both her stone and Celestial knifes were brandished in a fighting type way.

"Don't you _ever_ call me that _again,_ " she hissed deep in her throat. "Is that clear?" I swallowed and quickly nodded. I don't know why she got so angry at the suggestion of something shorter to call her by. There wasn't any harm in it – I mean her name is _so_ long. There was no reason to get worked up . . . unless it had something to do with her dad.

"Okay, okay," I mumbled. "No Arty, I'll figure out something else."

"Good luck with that," she spat. She sheathed her two knives and with a growl she spun on her heel and marched off. I stared after her for a second before quickly getting to my feet and following her as she went off into the darkness.

We hadn't even gone five steps before something happened. One moment I was dimly following Arthemia's rough shadowy outline tempted to pull out Riptide for light, the next two bright lights burst into existence one either side of her. In the blink of an eye two old-fashioned torches were giving off strong balls of fire, illuminating a five-foot space. Arthemia skidded to a halt and looked at the torches in surprise.

"That wasn't me so don't even think it," she hissed, looking quizzically at the torches. The flames were large and bright, glowing red. Yet as I watched them I saw the colour of the flames shifted into a brown sort of colour, then into a silver sort of colour; then back again. It was weird yet cool, and somehow those colours felt important to me but I couldn't quite put my finger on it. Annabeth would probably know if she was here.

"I wasn't going to," I muttered. "You have a weird affect on torches down here, moving on. Let's just keep going." She glanced back at me somewhat surprised before shrugging and striding forward. After a moment's hesitation of uncertainty I followed.

I was just coming in line with the gothic wall torches when something else happened. The colours changed. No longer was the flame shifting colours. Now it was a deep blue with hints of green; washing everything in an eerie underwater sort of light. I stopped dead and hastily took a few steps back; seeing Arthemia freeze and stalk back to the torches. They reverted back to the shifting colours they had originally been in.

Arthemia cast me a glance that seem to say _see? I'm not alone in this_ before rolling her eyes and continuing down the tunnel. I followed and once again the flames changed to the blue colour. Both of us stared at them.

"They react to our auras," Arthemia marvelled. "Yours is blue-green because your father is god if the sea and mine . . . they react to our auras; enough said. Let's move on." I knew she had figured something out. Something that clearly had unsettled her. Maybe the aura colours related to the godly parent of demigods. If so then we just gained another clue. Unfortunally I really didn't understand the colours.

Another five steps, just when we were almost out of reach of the first set if light, two more torches flared into existence. They were the same colours as before. No longer too surprised, Arthemia kept going and I blindly followed. I couldn't take into account that Annabeth was _gone._ I was so wrapped up in my thoughts that I didn't even notice the changing of the flame colours or the fact that the pair behind us was snuffed in a second.

For the next ten minutes we continued on. There was nothing but the cold stone tunnel, the weird changing torches, and the horrible cloying scent of evil. I wanted to take charge at some point, but there was only a single path and this _was_ Arthemia's quest. The dusty air swirled so thickly around us to the point of leaving us blind. Then it went pitch black.

For a minute there was nothing but panic. I was trying not lose my head in the unsettling darkness, and I could hear the sound of snapping fingers as Arthemia tried to make sparks. I coughed trying to breathe through the dust. Then abruptly the dust was gone, and the whole passageway blazed into light.

The smell of evil and death was even stronger, but what was before us was not something I expected. The passage was infinite, shrinking and vanishing in darkness. The stone walls were even darker and more mold covered. Every five feet there were black iron torches blazing either Greek Fire or glowing orange. On both sides of the tunnel were huge gaping iron barred doors.

For a moment we were frozen in shock. Then I heard the clack of nails, the rubbing of scales, the booming of heavy footsteps, and the predatory hiss of monstrosities. I held my breath as I saw glowing orbs appear at the door of each iron gate. Sometimes two, sometimes one, sometime three or more, all turning to face the two demigods frozen. I was so scared I couldn't move.

"It – it's not possible," I heard Arthemia breathe after sometime. I watched in horror as she slowly walked towards the nearest iron on the left. Her eyes were wide and she moved as if she was in a trance. Two glowing eyes bored into her. There was a clicking sound and she whispered something under her breath. She slowly raised her hand and reached out to touch the bars.

That got me to move.

I sprinted forward and grabbed her wrist a second before she could touch the iron. Twisting her arm I thrust her behind me as she screeched in protest. Quickly I uncapped Riptide and held it between me and whatever was behind the bars. The eyes blinked slowly once before slowly turning away and disappearing.

Keeping Riptide ready I turned around and slapped Arthemia across the cheek. She glared at me; her eyes had lost that vacant look. "What's wrong with you?" I growled. "Who's knows what's behind those bars? It's dangerous!" She folded her arms and straightened up angrily.

"Don't get mad at me," She growled. "It was the monster! I couldn't help it! It _told_ me to open up the cage." I stared at her like she was crazy.

"That was a _monster?_ And how could you possibly understand it?" What the heck was she going on about?

"I – I don't know!" She yelled, hate in her eyes. "But I do know where we are. Remember when Chiron told us about the Yggdrasil? He was right. This is the reincarnation of the Yggdrasil. The roots are a prison, they held monsters and they still hold monsters. The insides of the cages are roots. This place holds all the most deadly monsters ever known to the gods that have been caught."

"B – But how could you see?" I stammered. "I can understand the connections but – how can you see what the cages are made of?" Arthemia frowned and glanced casually at the nearest cage. There was a low clicking sound.

"I'm not sure, I can just sort of tell," she growled. There was more of that clicking sound followed by hoots and shrieks and hiss echoing from everywhere. "They don't like Celestial bronze," Arthemia explained. "But _don't_ put your sword away – I don't trust these creatures." I rolled my eyes at her.

"They're monsters. Of course you shouldn't trust them. All they ever want to do is eat us," I muttered. "You know, this kinda fits in to what the crazy lady up top was saying. You being The Tree's material guardian or something. You're, like, the jail keeper of the world's creepiest prison." Arthemia snorted but didn't slap me or get angry so I took it as a good sign.

"Whatever," she snapped, loosening her bronze knife in it's sheath. "Let's just keep moving. We need to find a way out of this, because we're not safe and we don't exactly have supplies."

"Maybe we could eat one of the monsters," I suggested, trying to keep my tone light. _Wham!_ Arthemia's fist caught me in the gut. It didn't really hurt but the sheer force behind it was tremendous. Gods, this girl is _strong._

"You want to go in there?" She hissed. "Let's just go." Pulling her knife out she kept it relaxed yet ready in front of her and stalked off down the tunnel. I wasn't really in the mood to lose _another_ member of this quest, nor was I ready to get lost down in this horrifying place. Reluctantly I followed.

Time wore on and on and on. Me and Arthemia stayed side-by-side, alone save for the glowing eyes of various monsters. Most of them would go back and hide in the dark, but a few of the braver (or stupider) ones would instead say things in their weirdo language. Arthemia would always hiss back – somewhat terrifyingly – threats or orders in Ancient Greek. Only then would the monsters vanish from my sight. But some still stayed to speak in their creepy voices.

The tunnel twisted and turned and half of the time it was either level or sloping downwards. The stench of evil became unbearable. I was choking on the air. It didn't seem to affect Arthemia to much, but she certainly didn't appear too pleased. The more turns and spirals we made the worse it got. I soon couldn't tell which way was which and what direction we had come from.

There was only one corridor, but both sides were full of iron barred cages. They were placed diagonally across from each other and a glowing torch was in between all of them. But the dusty smooth walls and slick sloping floor made it all too easy to lose my way. Arthemia seemed to know instinctively where to go, what to do, and exactly how dangerous the monsters were with just one look.

We kept on like this for about half an hour. By this time I was growing hungry. The fact we didn't have any food on us wasn't helping either. Unfortunally there was nothing I could do. Down here, I was pretty much useless. Well, I thought I was useless.

Almost as abruptly as we had found ourselves in this place, we suddenly came to the end of the tunnel. One second everything was as it had been, the next we were staring at a blank curved wall of mold encrusted stone with thin piece of dried up root curling between the cracks. There was a torch in the wall about the same level as Arthemia's head; so about my shoulder. Diagonally from us on either side were rust covered iron gates. Behind them was blackness.

"So . . . which way now?" I asked Arthemia. It was really upsetting to have to rely on her and not on Annabeth. I had to because _she_ didn't care at all and this was _her_ quest. Arthemia took a moment and looked in either of the gates.

"You know what? You choose," she huffed. "I'm sick of this place and you're suppose to be older . . . physically, not mentally." She folded her arms and raised her eyebrows expectantly while scowling angrily. I sighed and rubbed my forehead, trying to clear my head.

"Seriously? You choose now to stop being independent?" I mumbled. "I can't even see into them!"

Arthemia growled in her throat. "Leave it to the idiotic _boy_ to be blind," she hissed. "The one on the right . . . I don't like it, I can see spikes in it. The one on the left . . . it's just dark. So where do _you_ think we should go? Spikes or the dark?" She sounded like she was mocking me.

"Um . . ." her asking me to choose had not been something I had expected. "Well in my experience spikes have never been good so . . . let's go with the left one." She gave me a curt nod. I barely got any time to react before she walked over to the gate and tried to pull up on it. It didn't budge. She tried again before frowning and kicking the thing.

"How the Hades am I suppose to open this?" she growled. "This thing is rusted shut! It's not exactly like I can say _anoiktó sousámi_ and it'll happen. Give me a hand you _oknērós ákhrēstos!_ " If it wasn't for the insult tacked on to the end, I would have laughed at her saying 'open sesame' in Greek. Rolling my eyes I joined her and we pulled up on the gate.

"Nice to know I'm the hired muscle," I grumbled. We tried and tried and tried. It didn't work. The thing was stuck tight. "It's not moving," I sighed stepping back, wiping sweat off my face.

I was hoping she would just give up. Instead I watched as she growled in the back of her throat and grip the gate even tighter. I saw her fingertips spark and she thrust up with all her strength. In one shrieking sound of screeching metal the gate flew up and disappeared in the dark stone. I stared at her shock and she glanced back at me surprised.

"Or you could do that," I mumbled. "Well, let's check it out." Without even a reply, she stepped into the cell and looked around. I followed her a moment later. I had to duck to go in.

The moment I crossed the threshold metal screeched and the gate slammed shut behind me. We whirled around and stared horrified at the now shut gate. I stood there petrified as I slowly watched the burning torches fizz out one by one and darkness filled the tunnel. I rattled the gate desperately. The entire place was blacker than night.

"I hate you."


	13. Nightmares

Arthemia: Nightmares

I hated Percy, I hated this place, I hated this cell, I hated my whole darn life. I wouldn't show it, and I wouldn't admit it, but I was downright terrified. It was bad enough to see the roots of The Tree closing in . . . but this? I had been living on top of a prison for two years. The two happiest years of my life, had been on top of a prison. And the prison scared me witless.

I didn't like what the monsters said. Their voices coiling around in my brain like a cold reptile. Their persuasive words . . . it was hard not to listen to them. They gave me such offers that were so tempting . . . and all I had to do was open the door. All I had to do was release the door and I would get what they promised.

It was so tempting; I wasn't even aware what I had been doing at first. If Percy hadn't stopped me . . . we would probably both be dead. I hadn't expected to just loose sense. We were lucky we weren't eaten by a . . . actually I'm not sure what the monster was called. But it wasn't pleasant.

Unfortunally I could see perfectly fine in the prison. I couldn't understand how Percy was unable to see. Everything thing was crystal clear to me, maybe a little dim and fuzzy, but otherwise I could see like it was day. The monsters in the cells were horrible; I could barely stand to look at them. The back three walls of the cell were made of roots. The same roots as that first room had been made of.

Now we were in one of the cells ourselves. Reasons for saying 'I hate you' to Percy? Well, aside from the obvious reasons, he choose which cell to go into and . . . it wasn't exactly what I would call 'safe' or 'non-dangerous'.

"I hate you," I repeated. "I really hate you." Involuntary I stepped backwards and gripped my bow tightly with both hands.

"Aside from the blackout," Percy said stepping forwards into the cell. "What's the big deal?" He started to take another couple of steps forward.

"No!" I hissed, grabbing his arm and jerking him back. "Don't even think about it! Five feet out there's a drop."

"Oh. Oops." It was sad but true. There was five feet of solid stone spanning off about ten feet to my left, and vanishing in the darkness on the right. The chasm seemed to span the whole chamber. It was about thirty feet wide, and I could only dimly the far side. Cautiously I wandered forward and few steps and peered down into the chasm. Nothing. I could see absolutely nothing.

"Whoop-dee-do," I grumbled. "Trapped in a cell that has an endless pitfall thanks to the idiot _boy_." Growling irritably I spun on my heel and stalked back to the gate, elbowing Percy in the stomach for good measure. Angrily I gripped the gate, sparked my fingers, and pulled up. Nothing happened. "Well it was worth a shot," I muttered under my breath.

"You know," Percy mumbled. "Just because I'm invincible doesn't mean I don't feel it when you hit me."

"Whatever." Then I heard it. It was very faint, but I could just notice it. A light clacking of claws on stone, the slither of a scaly belly, a low hiss. I swallowed nervously and stepped back. The slithering sound grew louder and louder; the clacking echoed loudly in the cell. A hiss reverberated through the air. "You – you can hear that right?"

"Oh good, so I'm not going crazy," Percy murmured. "Um, do – do you know what that is? _Please_ tell me it's not something that wants to eat us."

"I – I don't know. It's hiding," I snapped, trying not to show how freaked out I was.

"This isn't good."

"No duh Sherlock." The slithering sound grew even louder. I bit my lip and stared as I saw a long, narrow, forked tongue flickered out from the chasm for a second before disappearing. It flickered out again. Slowly a coal-black triangular head rose from the edge of the chasm; a long tongue flickering out often, testing the air. Several feet of a long, black, scaly body as thick as me rose out. The head bent and twisted to look at us. Large, glowing eyes fixed on us, pupils almost invisible. The tongue flickered out again, ending only three feet away.

I made a squeaking sound as Percy muttered a prayer in Greek. The eyes looked between us hungrily.

 _It's been a long time since I've had . . . visitors._ A voice hissed, working it's way into my head and coiling around like ice.

"Can you here it?" I whispered.

"What?" Percy whispered back. "I just hear hissing. You mean you can . . . understand it?" I let out another squeaking sound as I tried to say yes. The creature's eyes swivelled and fixed on Percy.

 _A son of Poseidon . . ._ the monster's voice hissed. _Approved by my mistress . . . interesting . . ._ I took a deep breath before gripping my bow even tighter and straightening my shoulders.

"Y – Your mistress?" I asked. "Who is your mistress?" The head turned to me; the eyes holding mine so steadily I couldn't look away.

 _You should know child . . . You resembled her very much. So what brings you here? Answer carefully child . . . it has been many eons since I've had a meal._ The tongue flicked out closer, I stumbled backwards terrified.

"A – A quest, and – and accidents. Um . . . please don't eat us!" I managed.

 _I cannot eat you,_ the voice concluded. _To do so would anger my mistress and throw the prison into chaos. But the son of Poseidon . . . although he is approved by my mistress, he is fresh meat; good, strong, and powerful . . . But a quest you say? Let us see . . ._ I could feel the creature's cold presence probing around my brain; invading my thoughts and memories.

"S- Stop that!" I screamed angrily. The presence retreated slightly.

_Interesting . . . very interesting . . . I understand now. You cannot go back, so you must go forward. But to go forward you must pass. You cannot pass, not yet, not unless you are strong enough . . ._

"What – what are you talking about?" I asked, putting on the best brave front I could. In response the creature slithered closer to us by a foot or two. It hissed lowly, and I began to detect a faint smell. At first it was sweet and light, like a pleasant spring breeze. But it slowly thickened, no longer as sweet, more relaxing and cloying. I began to feel drowsy; I swayed on my feet and had to force myself to keep my eyes open.

"Wh – what's happening?" I heard Percy murmur sleepily. A moment later there was a thump. I forced myself to look over to my left; Percy was lying there fast asleep and snoring.

"Percy!" I tried to yell, but it came out barely a whisper. Everything around me seemed fuzzy. I forced my eyes open wider.

 _You are strong child . . . you place gives you strength against this. But even you cannot resist forever._ The creature was right. I couldn't keep resisting. Even now I felt myself giving in. I was rocking back and forth, I was slowly lowering my head and my eyes wanted to close. I tried to fight it off. The feeling was too powerful. My knees began to buckle, my eyes closed shut on their own accord as I felt my mind slip away . . .

* * *

I can back to my senses somewhere else. I was on my side lying on a cool stone floor. Opening my eyes slowly I sat up and looked around. I was lying on the floor of a wide hallway. The walls were dark wood, and the ceilings far above were tiled. Elegant light fixtures were hanging from the ceiling and giving off a warm light. Several old English wooden doors were lined on both sides of the hallway.

I stood up and turned in a slow circle before frowning. Something was wrong. It took me a moment to figure it out. The place was disproportionate. Everything was larger to a certain point. A wide hall wasn't too weird, but the ceiling was maybe a foot taller and the doors were all at least half a foot taller than they normally were. And something else seemed wrong. The walls didn't seem . . . solid. Confused, I walked over to the wall on my right and reached out to touch it.

It felt like goo, thickening more as I managed to push my fingers in. My hand was in almost up to my knuckles before it became solid and I stopped. Hurriedly I pulled my hand out, the wood rippling around it.

"What the Hades?" I murmured, staring at the wall in confusion. Then I remembered. The cell, the black snake-like monster, the smell, falling asleep, and everything else. "Oh gods, no," I whispered. "Percy! Percy, are you here!" No response. "What have you done, Creature? Where am I? What's going on?"

 _You won't get an answer, child,_ a female voice said. It didn't sound like the voices of monsters; it wasn't speaking in my head but around me. _They cannot hear you, you are alone. Save your strength and anger for what awaits you. You will need all of it._ I looked around, trying to figure out where the voice was coming from.

"But . . . who are you? What is happening? I don't understand," I pleaded.

 _I cannot explain, child,_ the voice said. _My guardian is merely doing it's duty. But I can guide you as it is needed. Follow the current, follow it and don't stray . . . and remember to save your strength . . ._ the voice faded away and I was alone.

I took a deep breath and tried to figure out where I was. The hallway seemed familiar to me. I scowled and tapped my forehead, trying to remember. Stone floor. Wood walls. Old fashioned doors. Then it hit me. It was a fuzzy memory, one I had tried hard at to block out. The basement; it was the basement. I remembered it now. It was the basement hallway in the house. But . . . why was I here? I hated this place. It gave me the chills. My father had teased me about dunking me in a spring he claimed was down here when I was bad as a child. The only time I had ever been down here was when I first got my bow; he taught me in the first room.

I breathed deeply and tried to calm myself as my heart began to beat rapidly. This place scared me; in real life and now in this dream reality. There was a loud moan from somewhere. I stood there for a second, knees shaking, before chickening out and running towards the staircase leading up. _What am I doing?_ I thought. _I don't run from danger, I don't panic. What is happening to me? Ever since_ they _found me, I've been a mess._ I didn't know what had gotten into me. I wasn't like this. Why was I even in the basement?

I reached the staircase. I put a foot to the bottom step, but the moment I put down any weight my foot went straight through. I choked back a cry of surprise, gripped the doorframe, and thrust myself back. I couldn't use the stairs which meant . . . I was trapped in the basement. Closing my eyes I steadied my breathing and tried to figure out what to do. The woman had said to follow the current, and I knew I could somehow trust her.

Keeping my eyes closed I let my feet take me where they would. I didn't hesitate, I didn't falter, I just followed what my gut told me. When I sensed I needed to, I stopped and opened my eyes. I was standing in front of a door. Glancing down the hall I realized I was in front of the first door; the one that lead to the room I first learned to shoot in.

Taking a deep breath I turned the handle and pushed. Locked. That was odd. The only time it had ever been locked was when I turned nine and half . . . the day dangers started to follow me. I thought about maybe setting it on fire with some sparks. Suddenly it hit me. I knew why everything seemed backwards.

No sparks were on my fingertips, even though I was upset. There wasn't even tingling. Taking a deep breath I slowly looked down at myself. I gasped and stared at my body in shock. It – it wasn't really my body. I was wearing slippers, brown yoga pants, and a green tank top. My hair was shorter, _much_ shorter; it only reached just past my shoulders. Both of my knives were gone, as if that had never been there. My bow and quiver were still with me, but I didn't have any bronze arrows. And the most shocking thing of all? I was only around nine years old. I was a twelve year old, in a dream reality, trapped in my nine year old body.

The second I realized this, I screamed. Can you really blame me? I was nine years old! I screamed again and kicked the door in front of me. I was probably going to scream again but I managed to gain my self control. _Think,_ I told myself, _think, breathe, figure this out._ The smaller body explained why everything seemed a little larger than I remembered. Let's see what I knew; I was nine, I was in the basement – the age I had been the last time I came willingly down here – and the door to the archery room was locked.

That was it then. In the dream reality I had somehow gone back in time. But why? Why this exact day? This was a bad day for me. What had happened this day . . . I could remember it vividly. Me screaming hateful words and my smashing of things, my father yelling and me as his face was red in anger; it was the worst fight we had ever had. It was because of that fight that I made the life-altering choice to run away. All because he locked the door and refused to let me go out of the house or do anything but sit in my room. There had been no reason behind it. But the fight . . . I shivered. I had tried so hard to block it out and now here it was again, fresh and bright in my mind.

I was fighting off tears of anger and pain when I felt an insistent tug in my gut. Absentmindedly I stepped towards where it was pulling me. I moved down the hallway and stopped before the next door. On impulse I twisted the doorknob and pulled the door open. When it open a few inches there was thump. I swallowed nervously and opened the door all the way.

For a minute I was frozen in absolute shock and fear. Ginormous, spindly legs with thick hairs, little hooks on the ends. A large abdomen and an ugly head with foaming pincers and eight eyes. It was a gross black and brown. An oversized sticky web was stretched across the room behind it. It's eight eyes fixed on me and it hissed.

I screamed at the top of my lungs. Slamming the door shut in a hurry I pushed myself across the hall and pressed myself against the wall. There were several thumps for a minute before all went quiet. I breathed a sigh of relief as my heart rate slowed from a buzz to just frantic.

"Oh dear gods," I whispered, holding my head in my hands. The image and huge spider wanting to eat me was seared into my mind. You might think that because I'm better off in nature I'd be okay with spiders. The truth? I did not like spiders in the least. Sure I was okay if they were small, but if they were bigger than my thumb nail I would start to panic. Not the screaming type of panic, but the freeze-in-place-than-bolt type of panic. I used to be able to count on Aria to eat them when they appear but . . . oh gods.

Aria.

Where was she? She had gone off when we entered the property. But where was she now? Everything happened so fast. I never got a chance to call her. I wiped off tears that fell and slowed my breathing. I was shivering. I felt the tug again. Sighing I stepped away from the wall and let it guide me.

I walked to the next door on the right of the hall. Almost against my will now, nerves in my heart, I turned the knob and open the door. _Well,_ I thought as I saw what was in there, _this isn't so bad._

It was sort of like a walk-in aquarium. The air had shimmering beams of light as if it was the sun being seen from underwater. A couple pieces of long seaweed broke through the tiled floor and swayed gently. Fish we're gliding through the air as if in water. It was breath-taking. I wasn't much for fish or swimming, but this was awesome. There were shining, silvery fish darting around in shining schools. Little groups of brown minnows pecked at the walls and floor. Other species of river fish that I vaguely recognized were scattered about.

I stepped into the room and breathed deeply. The air was thick with moisture, like a humid day, but there was the oddest consistency of water in it. I could still breathe normally – if all swimming was like this, I might actually attempt to learn. At the moment I was rather envious of Percy's ability to breathe underwater. This was simply incredible.

I walked around the room, watching the fish, poking at them if they came close enough. Completing my lap around the room I wandered into the middle of it. This was a thousand times better than the last room. I almost felt a smile tug at the corner of my mouth as I stood there, a beam of light warm on my skin. I looked up to the ceiling. Swishing around in a group of five were some ugly fish. Well, ugly isn't accurate; they were this brownish-grey, thin but tall and long. Their fins were thick and patterned. As I looked at them, one flipped itself so it looked down at me. I bit my lip and froze. The eyes were bulbous and dark, and sharp spiny teeth were poking out through fat lips.

The fish wiggled it's tail fins and the others turned to look down at me to. A second later they were swishing down to my face. I yelped and sprinted for the door. It was like trying to wade through water – tiring and not very fast. The fish swam after me hungrily, moving much faster than I was. With a cry I leapt through the door. My hands hit the ground and I kicked the door close not a moment too soon before pulling myself into a crouch.

For a second I was shocked into paralysis. Did that really just happen? It couldn't have . . . and what were those fish? They looked like piranhas or something. But what about the other fish? I knew they were river fish, did that mean the ones chasing me also lived in rivers? I knew they lived in the Amazon, and others in the sea but . . . I shuddered. That settled it. I wasn't going swimming ever again. _Never._

I swallowed down the panic that was welling up inside of me and stood up. I wanted to get out of here. But there was nowhere to go because I was trapped down here. I took a deep breath before slowly following the insistent tug in my gut. I almost didn't want to any more. But that woman, she had told me to follow the current, and I trusted her.

I was led across the hall to the next door. Unlike all the others this one pushed in. Taking a slow breath and gaining control of my emotions I twisted the knob and pushed. The door swung in and seemed to vanish. The tug was more powerful now. Carefully I stepped just past the threshold into the room.

Immediately it was like I was a different place. The room seemed to vanish. I was standing in the forest. The odd tree was in my view of everything, but I could clearly see The Tree. It looked just as it always had, perfect and beautiful. Bird calls trilled, the air was warm, and I couldn't feel happier.

As I watched I saw a thin plume of smoke rise up from somewhere in the distance. I frowned, that wasn't right. The smoke darkened and thickened, the bird calls turned to shrill shrieks. More smoke, thicker, choking me and everything else. I coughed. I saw red light flickering on the far side of The Tree.

Within a few seconds a giant fire was roasting through the forest. Birds shrieked and animals ran. The forest was getting torched. Flames licked the edge of The Tree. It groaned and tilted; roots ripping out of the ground, branches crashing into treetops. The flames moved faster now. Licking up the sides of The Tree, turning ordinary ones into ash. Birds took flight in huge flocks, animals ran through the underbrush.

"No," I cried. "No! _NO!_ " Desperately I tried to run forward. It was like a flexible wall was in front of me. I couldn't move forward. "NO! It can't be happening!" I screamed; tear welling up in the corners of my eyes. I reached forward, trying to do anything. Deer, rabbits, badgers, and foxes ran by me; their eyes wide in terror, their fur standing on end. A raven blacker than night sped by inches from my face. Tears dripped down my cheeks.

Everything was burning away now. Branches of The Tree fell off and crashed to the ground. Trees fell sending waves of sparks and new flames rippling through the air. "No! This can't be happening!" I screamed, my vocal cords searing. I wanted to stop the fire, but I couldn't even move. Everything was turning to ash, the fire was destroying everything. The forest, my home, the most beautiful place in the world was destroyed. "No, please no," I begged, hoping some divine would intervene. Ash blew around everywhere. Coating everything, as flames burned low and bright.

Suddenly there was a strong gust of wind. Wooden hinges creaked and the next thing I knew a door slammed itself in my face. The entire forest vanished. I was thrown backwards and suddenly I was back in the basement hall. I stood there shell-shocked, as tears streamed down my face. I tried to comfort myself by telling myself it wasn't real. It didn't work. Tears still fell despite my attempts to push them back.

I don't know how long I stood there. Fighting back the tears. But I wasn't one to cry. I _hated_ to cry. I scrubbed at my eyes with the kneel of my hand and removed all traces of tears. There was the tug in my gut again. I didn't want to go on. This place was a house of horrors. It was like the incarnation of fear. A bad thought was worming its way into my mind, but I wasn't in a mood to deal with it.

Reluctantly I followed the force that pulled me on. It led me to the next door on the same side. Before even reaching for the knob, I cast a quick glance at the rest of the hall. I realized I had opened all the doors except for this one and the one at the end. I hoped that would mean I could leave this dream reality soon.

Sighing tiredly, fear of what might lie behind the door racing through my veins, I pulled the door open. Nothing. It was empty, black. I frowned, that didn't make any sense. So far all had been things that freaked me out. I wasn't afraid of the dark. I had _never_ been afraid of the dark.

The back of my scalp tingled. I felt the compulsion to walk forward.

Putting my hands on either side of the doorframe, almost as if to stop myself, I stepped forward. My feet crossed a few steps over the threshold. Then I was somewhere else. It was dark, an odd faint flash appearing somewhere in the distance. Now where was I? I could still feel my hands pressing against the doorframe. But my sight showed me something entirely different.

As I stood there, I watched the flash come closer and grow brighter. There was a blinding flash, and before my eyes a scene unfolded. A scene that was by now all too familiar. The blinding flashes were lightning, showing a storm through an open window. There was a broken cabinet against the far wall. Two tables were in the room, in front of me with their corners touching. Standing against the left table was my father; and facing him was an older, angrier me.

"What are you doing here?" the older me growled.

"Arthemia," he gaped. "Please I – " The other me bared her teeth and hissed.

"You left me," she accused, her tone frightening even to me. "You left me behind! You wanted me gone – you hated me! You wanted me dead! You left me." Her voice fell to a broken angry whisper. My father's knees shook, he looked like me would faint. Something glinted in the other me's hand, barely visible from the lightning.

"I – I never meant to," my father said. Despite myself, I scowled. I hated my father, the jerk. All the same, I knew what was going to happen. I wanted this to stop. But I couldn't move. I was petrified. Frozen like a statue in fear.

"You left me," the other me repeated. "You wanted me to die. You left me." She raised her hand; stone knife held aloft. "You left me to DIE!" she screamed. She sprang forward and stabbed the knife through my father's chest. A cry of terror escaped my lips. The girl released her knife, turned, and jumped out the window. My father's body crumple to the ground. Blood spilled, staining the ground scarlet. He twitched and convulsed; drawing shuddering breathes and coughing up blood.

I screamed. An ear-shattering note burst out of me. I couldn't hold it in. I pushed myself back off the door frame. All at once I was back in the hall, another scream tearing itself out of my throat. I slammed the door shut and leaned against it gasping. A moment later I was leaning against it with my eyes closed and whimpering. The image was seared into my mind. Over and over I saw me kill my own father and flee.

I didn't want to move. I just wanted to curl up in a ball and die. The image chilled me to the core. But the tug came again. Hard and strong. I had no choice but to follow it. No choice to move down the hallway to the last door. I whimpered again before cautiously pulling the door open.

I stepped forward but didn't dare cross the threshold. The room was large, and tiled in white marble. In the centre was a bubbling spring that flowed into a rippling pool of pale blue water. The air was steamy and smelled like lilacs. It was like a pleasant sauna. I looked around the room, it seemed empty. I stepped inside.

All of a sudden there was a blur of movement. Defensively I raised my arms as something crashed into me. Gritting my teeth I held my ground as I was attack. Quickly I became bruised and battered, but I still didn't turn and flee.

Instead I began growling in my throat. Why was . . . whatever this was attacking me? I hadn't done anything. I became angry. What the heck was with this place? Pushing me around and scaring me, and now it was beating the living daylights out of me. A bubble of rage swelled up inside of me. I sick of being pushed around!

I let out an ugly cry of anger. I thrust out with my knee and struck whatever was attacking me hard. Without even thinking, I reached into my quiver, pulled out and arrow and thrust it into the thing in one fluid movement. I twisted the arrow, stabbed harder and kicked it back. The thing attacking my staggered backwards and suddenly became visible.

Tall, simple clothing, brown hair, tan skin, warm brown eyes looking at me in shock and hate. It was my father.

He collapsed to the ground coughing and hacking up bright droplets of blood. Thin streams of scarlet ran from the wound.

"No," I whispered. "No! _No!_ " He fell to his side, shaking. Blood dribbled out of the corner of his mouth. I pressed my hands to my mouth and screamed. I screamed louder than I had ever done before. Louder and louder; so shrill it could break glass.

My dying father looked up at me, horror in his eyes. "Murderer," he whispered before lying still; his eyes glazing over. My screams grew louder. I thought I would break apart. Everything around me began to swim. I couldn't stop screaming. Everything was growing fuzzy and faint. I still screamed. I couldn't understand anything; everything was disappearing and still I screamed on . . .

. . . All went quiet and I found myself in the cell. I was lying on my side and my eyes were closed. The faintest traces of that strange scent lingered in the air. I didn't want to open my eyes; the terrifying images of me killing my father engulfed my mind over and over against. I pushed myself up and curled into a ball. I dropped my head to my knees, and sobbed.


	14. Deadly Fears

Percy: Deadly Fears

At first I had trouble understanding. I just found myself lying on my back in some place cold, damp, and musty smelling. My mind was fuzzy, like someone had decided to short-circuit it. I opened my eyes slowly and looked around. It was dark. I almost couldn't see. A few seconds pasted and it was like seeing at night. Dim, blurry, and dark. Talking a deep breath I sat up slowly, trying to figure out what had happened. My head ached and I had a bitter taste in my mouth.

Standing up I turned in a slow circle. This place was familiar. But it was still dark. Wanting to see better, I pulled out Riptide and uncapped it. The enchanted blade cast enough of a glow that I could see where I was. I was in a long hallway made of dark stone, or maybe cement that was worn smooth. It was round and circular; water dripped through cracks in the ceiling and plopped into pools. Dark, narrow openings led to invisible side tunnels. Now I knew exactly where I was.

I was in the Labyrinth.

My throat constricted. I knew the Labyrinth had been destroyed. Daedalus had willing given his life so that it would disappear and camp would be safe. I knew it wasn't possible for me to be here. But there was no denying it. The very feel of this place was the same. But then how . . . ?

I remembered what happened in a rush. The cell, the snake, Arthemia talking to it, the smell, passing out. And Annabeth – Annabeth was still gone. Still missing. My mind swam as I tried to figure out what to do. I was never any good in these situations. Throw me in a fight, and I'll be able to come through. But put me in a situation that causes me to make a plan and be rational . . . I was hopeless. I could never focus enough to think things through. I always had Annabeth before but now . . .

I pushed everything out of my mind. I couldn't afford to lose my head now. Right now I needed to get out of here. I wasn't safe in the Labyrinth. I could still remember the warning Daedalus (when I thought he was still Quintus) had given me. The Labyrinth existed to fool people, to distract them; and for an ADHD demigod that was always a major risk. For me that was an even higher risk.

For a moment I stood there trying to remember how to exit the Labyrinth. I don't know about you, but I never thought I'd never have to worry about it again. How had we gotten out when me and Annabeth stumbled in by accident? Let's see . . . she had something like "Take two steps back. Good. Now look for the mark of Daedalus. Found it!" Well that only vaguely helped me. I knew the mark was a Delta, Δ, but aside from that I kind of doomed. Annabeth and Rachel had been the only ones to ever find them. I found one in a life-and-death situation.

Taking a deep breath I took the two steps backwards and inspected the walls. It took me a minute, but I was able to find the mark of Daedalus. I pressed my thumb to the symbol and watched as it glowed blue. I was expecting the ceiling to open up or a patch of wall to melt away. What really happened? There was a screech of metal and a loud clanging sound echoed through the passage. It repeated several times.

Well that was unexpected. Groaning in annoyance, I lifted my sword to see what had happened. Instead of the dark passages leading out, they were now sealed off by curved metal doors with knobs like a submarine hatch in the middle. I frowned, that was weird. Sighing I turned around to see if there were doors down here now to and I was met with . . . a brick wall.

"What the heck?" I complained. Sighing I lowered Riptide. The tip almost seemed to graze the ground. Hang on, that didn't make any sense. I was more than tall enough now. But then how . . . confused I looked down. "Holy Poseidon! Who changed me?" I yelped. I was definitely _not_ the same person. I was wearing dirty old jeans, ruined running shoes (okay, that's not too weird for me), and an orange Camp Half-Blood t-shirt. _That_ was odd. Every since the books were published I had to avoid wearing it in public a lot. Not so much because of the shirt itself, but because the whole black-hair-green-eyes thing that gave me away. The worst part about this? I was fourteen; same age as when I was in the Labyrinth.

"This is, like, a joke right?" I said a little louder, somewhat hysterically. "It's not Kronos suddenly coming back and sending me through time or some kind of prank is it?" There was no response. "I'm talking to myself aren't I?" Nothing. "I thought so. Nice to know I'm being toyed with." Sighing I capped Riptide and put it back in my pocket. Wasn't much point in carrying it around if I was trapped down here.

I stood there for a minute, thinking things through. Groaning in frustration I stuck out my hand and leaned against the wall. At least that's what I intended. My hand past clean through the wall. It felt like goo, or maybe monster gut (long story, not something to get into). It was sticky and I lost balance as I fell over sideways. "Whoa!" I pulled myself back up. Walls that weren't solid? That wasn't right. I mean I knew I had fallen asleep but what did that make this place, some kind of dream reality?

The moment I regained my balance, the weirdest thing happened. This strange glowing orb appeared in front of me. It was a bluish-white and just looked like a ball floating in midair. It started out weak, but grew steadily stronger. It bobbed up in down in front of me before circling around my head. It glided forward a few feet, sped back to me and completed another lap around my head.

"A weird glowing orb wants me to follow it," I muttered. "That's a new one." The orb bobbed in front of me again and went off more slowly. Sighing, and out of options, I followed it. It did a few fancy aerials along the way but it ended up taking me to the first door on the left side of the passage. It bumped the door before dancing around my head.

"You want me to go in there?" I asked it. It bobbled excitedly. "Oo-kay. I'm talking to a piece of light and taking orders from it." I rubbed my forehead tiredly before gripping the wheel in both hands and twisting it. There was a hiss of air and the door swung out. I had thought it would lead me to the closed off passage. What it was instead was something entirely different.

It was basically a tiny metal room. The walls were completely smooth and it was absolutely empty. I frowned and tilted my head in confusion. Why the heck was there a random tiny room suddenly? Unsure what to do, I stepped in. Maybe there was another mark of Daedalus that would let me out of here.

I only just went past the threshold before stopping and looking around at the ceiling and walls. Suddenly there was a creaking sound and a large bang. The door swung shut behind me. I whirled around in surprise as everything went completely dark. Not a good sign.

I took a deep breath and tried to calm myself down. I still wasn't the best with enclosed spaces. I still freaked out. I was only okay if I was with my friends . . . which I wasn't right now. I took another breath and pushed on the door. It didn't budge. I threw myself against it. Nothing happened. _All right,_ I thought. _Now I can panic._ I went crazy after that.

I banged the walls, the ceiling, everything. I anything I could think of to get out of there. Except uncap Riptide because there was no space. I yelled and cursed and generally went into panic. I was trapped in here. Stupid glowing orb. The darn thing tricked me! Yelling loudly I slammed by fists on the door before lowering my head in frustration. It was useless. I was trapped.

It fell silent. The silence freaked me out. My heart was pounding like a crazy drum and my breathing was erratic. Then I heard it. A faint _drip drip._ I froze in place. The dripping sound grew louder and faster. I took a deep breath and pushed my hands against the walls. I felt droplets run by my hands. My head snapped up and I felt up as far I could in the tiny room. I found tiny holes near the ceiling; liquid was dripping out of them. Water, it was water.

I turned in a circle. Water was dripping into the room from all the walls. Pools began to gather at my feet. _This isn't so bad anymore,_ I thought. _Soon I'll be able to use it to bust my way out of here._ The water trickled in faster now. It was rising quickly. Already the water was lapping up over my feet. It kept rising, slowly coming to ripple against my ankles.

As the water rose, I closed my eyes and steadied my breathing. I tried to forget about the tiny space, I tried to forget about being locked up, I tried to focus only on the steadily rising water. My heart was still pounding though. I couldn't get myself calm enough. At this rate I would never be able to control the water.

The water kept rising. It swirled around my knees now; climbing higher. Water was being forced out of the holes now, shooting out like miniature jets. The water level neared my waist. I was still freaking out. Even the water wasn't helping to calm me down. I was going crazy. I needed to calm down. One thing could possibly calm me down.

I crouched down and submerged my head under the water. I was still hyperventilating but I hoped this would help. I took a slower breath . . . and sucked in water.

I shot to my feet and coughed. What was this? I – I couldn't breathe in the water. That – that wasn't normal. I should be able to breathe but if I was unable to . . . and the water kept rising . . . terror rose in my throat. That was it then. I was going to drown. The son of Poseidon, was going to drown locked in a broom closet. My heart beat faster and faster, turning into a buzz; I started breathing fast shallow breaths.

"Let me out! Help! Help!" I screamed desperately. I banged my hands against the walls. "Help! Let me out!" The water had reached my shoulders by now. I hit the walls harder. I was practically floating in the water. It reached my chin. "Help! Someone!" I kicked myself off the ground as the water rose higher. I was struggling to keep my head above now. I banged on the ceiling. There was only an inch or two air left. "HELP!" I managed to suck in one last huge breath.

I went under.

The water washed over me. It swirled forcefully around me. Throwing me around, bashing me into the walls. I was rapidly running out of air now. I didn't know how much longer I could hold my breath for. I had already been down here for a minute or two. All ready my body was going limp from lack of oxygen. My mind dimmed, I couldn't think. My heart beat began to slow, thumping loudly. Everything was blurring . . . I lost common sense. I was dying, drowning.

In one sudden, violent moment I couldn't handle it any longer. I opened my mouth and breathed in. Water rushed in, burning my throat and filling my lungs. I coughed it up and tried again. More water rushed in. It was vicious cycle, my body rejecting the water and hungering for air. I could feel myself slipping away. My head ached; my mind was growing dark fast. I was losing feeling in my body. I was losing everything . . .

One of the walls burst open. The water flooded outwards in a rush, carrying me with it. I was slammed into the ground, the water rushing over me. Within a moment all the water was gone, as if it had just vanished. I coughed for a minute before greedily inhaling air.

I took another shuddering breath and pushed myself to my knees. Water streamed off of me, droplets falling in my eyes as I blinked furiously to see. I continued to cough for a second before I got my breath back and evened it out. Shakily I pushed myself to my feet. My whole body was trembling. I felt like I was going to be sick.

Forcing myself _not_ to throw up, I turned around and stared at the door. It had closed now; as if it had never been opened. The strange glowing orb was hovering next to the wall above the door. I stared at it accusatorily. It brightened, shook itself, then zipped forward to dance around my head. What the heck? I glared at the thing as string of colourful cuss words tumbled through my head. What was the thing anyways? I reached out and tried to touch it. It dodged my hand. Was I going delusional or something?

The thing danced in front of my face, causing me to feel dizzy and half blinding me. "That was your fault, you know," I rasped, my throat sore. "You're the reason I opened that door. I don't trust you." I stopped short. Was I really talking to a glowing ball of light? Gods I'm losing my mind. The orb bobbled up and down as if it was trying to shrug. "Oh just leave me alone," I grumbled; my throat felt like it was literally on fire.

In response the orb danced back and forth as if saying "No.". It did a lap around my head before drifting behind me and nudging me in the back. I let out a curse in Greek and swatted at the creepy thing. It avoided my hand and nudged me again, more insistent this time. Not about to be bullied by the thing, I folded my arms and stood my ground. The next thime it nudged me – it hit my Achilles' heel.

Yelping I jumped forward several feet. Gods that _hurt._ Darn thing just had to find it. The orb zipped forward, buzzed in my face, before pushing at my shoulder. "Alright, alright. I'll move," I snapped.

Sighing I let myself be bullied by the glowing orb. Well, if it knows where my Achilles' heel is what choice do I really have? It pushed me to the other side of the hall. I stopped dead in front of a door. The light spun around my head before bouncing excited on top of the submarine hatch-thing. "Oh no," I said. "I am not going though another one of these doors." The orb shook angrily and started whacking my hand. "I'm going to terminate you."

Crossly I grabbed the wheel and twisted it. With a grunt I pulled the door open. At first all I saw was blue sky. I was standing at such an angle that the door was in the way and I couldn't quite see the ground. The orb nudged at my shoulder before drifting up to float above the doorway. I glared at it and thought _fine, send me into the gods know what and stay behind. Stupid orb._ The orb ignored me glaring.

Exhaling through my nose, I stepped into the sky filled room. Immediately everything changed. I had thought I was stepping onto the edge of a cliff. Now I realized I had stepped onto a small pinnacle of rock barely big enough to fit both my feet. The sky was suddenly covered in thick purple and black storm clouds. A moment later rain was pelting down in buckets on me and thunder rumbled.

I took a deep breath to calm my nerves. Sure there was a thunder storm and sure I was in an insecure place, but that wasn't a reason to panic was it? It's not like it was Zeus trying to hit me . . . even though he probably wanted to. I risked my balance and glanced behind me. The doorway was dark and several feet behind. Looks like I wasn't getting back that way. I quickly turned my head back to normal and checked my balance. I looked down just to see how far up I was. Big mistake. I couldn't even _see_ the ground. Heck, the rock I was on vanished into nothing in my sight it was so far down.

I swallowed and snapped my head up. I may not be afraid of height like a certain daughter of Zeus (cough, Thalia, cough) but even this was scary to me. Thunder boomed over head, causing the rock spire to shake. I gulped and held my arm out for balance. A web of lightning flashed across the underside of the clouds. There was another rumble of thunder.

My waterproof magic wasn't much help against the rain. I didn't get soaked, but I could still feel the icy sting of rain. Lightning flickered around me, creating blinding light. I blinked hard and held up my hands. A bolt of lightning broke through the air much to close for comfort. Thunder boomed even louder. The rock pillar vibrated.

The storm raged on. Every time lightning split the air it was closer to me than the last. Whenever thunder rumbled the spire of rock shook violently, threatening to topple me. My heart thudded against my chest. Blood roared in my ears. My breathing faltered with each tremor. I was finding it increasingly harder to keep calm and keep my balance.

The rain pelted down harder, nearly pushing me to my knees. I struggled to keep standing and not topple. I was swaying precariously on my feet. A bolt of lightning split the air barely a foot from my face. I could feel the air vibrate from the heat, the feeling of my skin melting off; I could smell my hair and eyebrows being singed off. I caught my breath as my heart beat wilder in my chest. That was too close a call.

Thunder rumbled and it nearly blew my ear drums. Another bolt of lightning sheared through the air. There was a sickening CRACK! as the lightning hit only a few feet below me on the rock spire. The rock I was on trembled and tilted dangerously. I yelped and tried to throw myself in the opposite direction. The rock under my feet crumbled away and I fell forward; a cry of panic escaping my throat.

The rain pushed me down. I fell, but only a short distance. A sudden gust of wind swept me up and I was airborne. Lightning flashed by me. The wind propelled me backwards. Rain stung my face as I flew backwards. Then suddenly I was pushed through the doorway that had been so far away.

I tumbled back into the Labyrinth hallway and accidentally kicked the door shut. I knelt there shivering and breathing heavily. I couldn't hear anything behind it anymore. Everything was silent; it was almost as terrifying as the storm. The silence felt wrong.

Taking a deep breath I stood up. I was still freezing cold from the icy rain and my eyebrows had _definitely_ been burnt off to some extent. I looked back the door I had just come from distastefully. The orb was floating coolly above the doorway. At that moment I felt a stab of hatred. Hatred for this wretched place, hatred for the stupid orb that was going to get me killed, but most of I felt hatred at myself. I had chosen the cave – and now look where it got me! Trapped in a dream reality and living a nightmare.

As I stood there, glaring at the door and the orb, the orb's light twitched and it peeled itself away from the door frame. I swatted it at it as danced and twitched around me. The light hurt my head as it pulsed in and out of view. I tried to whack the little thing out of commission, but it spun and floated always just out of reach. Eventually I just gave up on trying to hit it, it was too much effort.

The orb hovered next to my head for a moment, before zipping around to nudge me in the shoulder. I scowled and folded my arms. I simply _refused_ to go anywhere else this thing wanted me to go. It nudged me again in the shoulder, harder. I didn't move. The orb buzzed angrily in my ear. It almost seemed to be saying 'go on already'. Okay, that's it. I've officially lost it – I'm imagining a glowing orb is speaking to me!

I stood my ground as the orb pushed violently on my shoulder. Seriously, what is with the thing? I didn't move a muscle as the orb battered tirelessly at my back. Thankfully it didn't hit my Achilles' heel. That would kind of force me to move just from the pain . . . well it was a good thing that wasn't happening. The orb kept edging me on. It was hard to ignore it, but I didn't move. I didn't want to go anywhere down here; but then . . .

"Percy!" I heard a voice call out. My spin tingled; I knew I had heard that voice before. "Percy! Help!" With a jolt I placed he voice. Annabeth. It was Annabeth. She was here. "Percy! Help me! Please! _Percy!_ " There was terror in her voice. It rang from down the hallway. My heart pounded in fear and my palms grew sweaty.

I sprinted off down the hallway at full speed. "Percy . . . !" She sounded close to tears. Her voice was echoing out of the cracks in the next doorway on the left of the Labyrinth tunnel. Adrenaline pulsed through my veins and I gripped the wheel and jerked it clockwise. "Help me! He-elp me!" I was breathing hard, angry and terrified at the same time, I could hardly breathe.

My heart was pounding so hard I thought it would break as I pushed the door open. It was heavy, like the hinges were stiff or something was blocking it from behind. Gritting my teeth I threw myself against the door and shoved it open a crack. There was a grinding sound and Annabeth's cries grew louder. I wiggled my head in between the gap and looked in.

Annabeth was backed up against a wall across from me; her wrists were shackled above her. A man was standing between me and her. I couldn't see anything about aside from his dark shape. He was close to her, too close. I felt emotions mix around inside of me. I was too shocked for a moment to do anything. Then I heard grunts and Annabeth screamed.

I jerked back in horror; disgust and rage taking over. I couldn't believe what I had just seen . . . I just couldn't. I steadied my breathing the best I could. I was about to force the door open the rest of the way, when the door creaked slowly shut on me. I pushed against it but it slammed shut. Fear clouded my mind, I started to sweat. I could still hear Annabeth's faint cries.

"No!" I screamed. "No! Annabeth! NO!" Tears welled up in the corners of my eyes as I rammed my shoulders desperately into the door. It didn't move at all. " _NO!_ " I punched the door as hard as I could but nothing happened. The room behind fell silently. Reluctantly I lowered my arms and stepped back. It was too late. I couldn't get through. It was useless. I was useless. I had just frozen there as . . . as . . . I couldn't even bear to think about it.

A shudder past through my body as dark images swam through my mind. The tears behind my eyes spilled over, streaking down my face. I squeezed my eyes shut and covered them with my hands. "No, no, no," I whispered over and over again, like it was a talisman. Tears splashed softly onto the Labyrinth floor.

When my tears were done I felt like a shell devoid of any life. I stood there staring blankly at the floor when there was a faint buzzing in my ear. It was familiar. After a second or two I realized it was the glowing orb. I stared at it coldly as it hovered next to me looking almost dejected.

"What do you want?" I growled miserably. Horrifying visions still crossed my mind. The ball drifted over to float in my palm. It tingled and tugged at my hand. I sighed let it pull me along; shudders pasted through my body every time an image flashed in my mind. The orb led me across the hall to another door. It flew out from my hand and hovered over the door way.

"No," I muttered. "No, I'm not going to go into another one again." I felt the tears again as a crystal clear image striked through my head. Then I heard a terrifying scream, coming from behind the door. A scream that unfortunally brought back a very bad memory from when I was twelve. "No!" I grabbed the wheel and forced the door in with all my strength.

There was another scream as I pushed my way in. "Mom!" I screamed as I entered the room. And there she was, chained up against the far wall cut up, bruised and bleeding. A gag was stuffed in her mouth and her eyes were wide with panic.

I stared at her horrified for a moment when there was a blur of movement. A vague black shape of a man slammed into me and I flew backwards. I slid out of the door and the man-shaped shadow slammed the door shut. "No, mom!" I cried. "No!" I tried to turn the wheel but it seemed to be rusted shut.

I kicked the door, frustrated, and let tears spill down my cheeks. My mother was . . . _it's an illusion,_ I thought, _it – it's not real. It's just fake._ That did nothing to ease the pain. I felt frozen in terror. I wanted to just lie down and die. This couldn't be happening.

For a minute it was silent, and then there was a fizzing sound as the orb twinkled out of existence. I blinked in surprise. Why couldn't that have happened half an hour ago when the thing first appeared? It didn't make sense. I thought of all this before I heard the sound.

It was screams, and fires roaring, and buildings collapsing to matchwood. I heard the bellowing calls of Cyclops's and centaur's war cries. There were the unmistakable voices of Chiron and Clarisse shouting orders. Deeper, more dangerous voices also called out orders. I felt my heart stop. The cries and thunder of war grew louder. It was coming from another door.

My breathing faltered as I sprinted forward and jerked open the door the war was coming form. The door creaked open and I stepped into the room.

It was camp. It was undoubtedly camp. And it was in flames. Everything was on fire and not a single building was left standing. I saw that vague, giant, man shaped shadows were towering over the far side of camp; standing in a boiling Long Island Sound. Tyson was leading a battalion of Cyclops; Chiron was ordering a legion of centaurs, Clarisse and an Athena camper were ordering around the rest of camp. Somewhere near the cabins, a platform had been raised. On it a huge bonfire burned around seven people. The seven of the prophecy.

It was a nightmare. It was my worst fear come true. The Great Prophecy was happening now, camp was in ruin and the seven defeated; and I was powerless to stop it. My favourite place on earth was being destroyed and this time I couldn't save it.

"No," I choked. "No! I won't let this happen!" I tried to run forwards. But it was like a bendy wall was in front of me. I couldn't possibly move and help out. "This can't be fate!" I screamed, fear paralyzing my body. A random camper looked over to me.

"I thought you were supposed to be a great hero," he said. "But you're just a coward – a no good coward!" My jaw dropped and I stared at him and the scene. The demigod moved on and he was lost in a sea of warriors. One of the huge man-like shapes bellowed, picked up a catapult in one hand, and tossed it into camps army. I knew almost all of them died instantly.

A piece of tinder flew through the air and caught Tyson in the chest as he whacked a monster on the head. Tyson flew backwards towards me. "No!" I cried, a moment too late. Tyson's limp body crashed into me and the door; a hundred tons of pure force. I was blasted backwards and the door was slammed shut.

I lay on the ground, dazed, for a moment before slowly rising to my feet. I was trembling; did that . . . really just happen? Did I really just see camp being destroyed by what looked like giants? Giants . . . oh gods. Panic slapped my mind so hard I had trouble breathing. Annabeth had told me she thought the prophecy was about the giants; and I had just seen . . . I shook. I was shaking and my breathing was erratic. I had just seen camp being destroyed by . . . I couldn't think about it. It was terrifying.

For a while, I stood there unseeing. All I could picture was camp being destroyed by human-shaped shadows. I couldn't wrap my mind around anything else. It was just so – so – I shivered. No, I couldn't think of it now. I couldn't let my fear paralyze me. I had to keep my wits, get out of here, and I didn't have squid to rely on.

I came back to myself slowly. My heart was still pounding and my body was clammy with sweat as I got a grip on my thoughts. But one thing wouldn't leave me alone. _You're a just coward – a no good coward._ I hated to be called a coward. So many people have called me that, and I couldn't stand it.

"I thought you were supposed to be a great hero. But you're just a coward – a no good coward." I tensed. It was that kid again. Why did _he_ have to come back and torment me? I looked around wildly and tried to pinpoint where his voice was coming from. "A no good coward." There. I had it now. Just down the hall, probably behind another door.

Terror gone and buoyed by anger I strode off towards the voice. A few feet down was another door with a submarine handle. Stopping in front of it I twisted the wheel and pulled the door open. It was so dark it looked like a black hole. I frowned; okay, that was weird.

I stepped into the room – and I was immediately crashed into by something. It was a black blur, but around it I saw light and colour, and other black shapes. Instinctively I raised my arms to block. It was like a fury attack. I gritted my teeth and held my ground. What the Hades was this? First I get scared out of my wits and now I was being attacked to top it all off? This just keeps getting better and better!

I struck out with my arm and pulled Riptide out of my pocket. In the brief moment I got to breathe I uncapped it and held it ready. A second later two blurry shapes moved in and attacked me. I slashed with Riptide and rolled away. More blurry shapes moved in and attacked me. I fought back with ease.

For the next while, I was busy fighting for my life. There were hundreds of things attacking me. I was forced to move all around wherever I was. I slash and hacked, rolled and dodged, fought and defended. Several times I used my powers over water to give myself the upper hand. Several times I set off accidental explosions. It was all I could do against the endless wave of things.

With a cry I spun in a circle slashing out, and suddenly my attackers fell to the ground. I blinked in surprise at what was around me. Lying half dead and bleeding at my feet was Chiron and Clarisse. I looked around, bewildered, as I felt horror fill my bones. All around me was camp in ruin. Everything was on fire and burning to ash and rubble. Every single camper, all of my friends were lying scattered about dead or mutilated. There were two large piles of dust lying side by side – I had a sickening feeling that was all that was left of Tyson and Mrs. O'Leary.

I gasped and collapsed to my knees as Riptide fell out of my hands. I – I had done this. I had destroyed camp, my favourite in the world.

I heard a voice groan from somewhere around me. "You're a murderous coward Percy Jackson, a murderous coward." I started to shake. No, no, no! This was my fault. Tears welled up behind my eyes. I was shaking like crazy. I had done this. I had been stupid, and blind, and horrible, and I had destroyed Camp Half-Blood. I had avoided doing this when I was sixteen, but now I had done it. I had destroyed everything.

"No," I whispered. "No . . ." I choked back sobs. Tears spilled down my cheeks in torments. Yes, I was the oh-so-wonderful hero and I was blubbing like a baby at what I had done. Everything around me swam as I crouched there shaking and letting tears fall. I was a monster, I had ruined camp. Everything around me blurred. I couldn't get over to horror I had done. Everything was growing dim. I wanted to scream. My sight was black on black and my head was growing dim. I was terrified and repulsed; a scream was building in my throat. I felt my mind begin to go . . .

The next thing I knew I was lying somewhere. I was on my side on a cold stone floor. My eyes were close and my mind felt groggy. It took me a moment to remember everything, the horror, the terror. I was freezing cold.

I opened my eyes slowly. Still pitch black, still unable to see anything. Groaning I sat up slowly rubbing my head. I looked around, hoping to see something. For a moment I thought I was entirely alone, and that even though I had fallen asleep or whatever Arthemia had abandoned me. Then I was aware of the noise. It sounded suspiciously like crying. That didn't make any sense. Who would be crying? I knew it wasn't possible but . . .

"Arthemia?" I whispered. "Is that you?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oops. Forgot to upload yesterday. My bad.


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